Echoes In the Blood
by sienna27
Summary: Caryl - Season 1. A night at the CDC. Some angst to start, smutty bits to arrive later. Three Shot.
1. How I lost You

**Author's Note:** Hey all :) New story!

Some of my Tumblr followers already heard this bit, but for everyone else, I have had this fic drafted for like a full year now. I kept putting it aside, then coming back to it, but then MAKING myself return to the ongoing stories because that's where my focus needed to be. But then this week I was skimming through it again and I was sort of shocked to see that it was literally forty pages, and it was nearing a complete draft. It seemed kind of dumb at that point to not take a stab at finally wrapping it up. And here we are :) It's a stand alone, unrelated to my other worlds, two shot.

So, we're at the CDC, pretty much to canon for what was seen onscreen through season one events, plus a back story romance for Carol and Daryl 'pre show,' because who is to say really, what happened before we got to camp ;)

Also, if interested, I put a couple of screenshots up on my Tumblr (sienna27) to show them in these 'scenes' here. If you don't have Tumblr, just google it with my name and you can still look at my public page. Everything's tagged on the side.

* * *

 **How I Lost You**

Carol let her book drop onto the cushion, and rolled over to stare up at the ceiling of the small room that she was sharing with her daughter. Her hands came up to scrub across her face.

It wasn't the book eliciting that reaction, it was just that she couldn't focus on reading, period.

And it had been at least two hours since she'd last seen or talked to anyone besides Sophia, who was now long asleep and sprawled out on her stomach, covered over in a blue blanket, on the other couch a few feet away. This late at night (coming up on near eleven pm if the ticking clock on the wall was correct), and after the weeks of hell that they'd all been living, Carol would've expected to have dropped off by now as well. Instead she just felt really wired, and it wasn't only her body that was keyed up.

There was too much on her mind too.

One of her dominant thoughts at that moment, was a genuine worry about just how safe they really were there in the CDC. Yes, obviously by all accounts, this place was a literal fortress, but oddly enough its 'fortress status,' was kind of the point that was constantly tickling her brain. Because with a place _this_ big, one that had had so many _thousands_ of people working there to start, how could Dr. Jennings be so certain that every one of those people had been accounted for, and that there no stray walkers wandering around in some forgotten conference room or sub basement? It just seemed like their group would really need to do a full, top to bottom scan of the place, with a set of blueprints in hand, before they could even think of living in there without some lingering concerns. You just couldn't take safety for granted anymore.

Not these days.

And her idea for a full search, was something that she was going to mention to Lori tomorrow so that she could say then something to Rick. Because even if Rick was the newest member of their group, somehow he'd already become their de facto leader. She wasn't quite sure how that had happened, but . . . her brow wrinkled slightly . . . it did seem that they were now following him pretty much blindly. Not that he'd been doing such a bad job so far, he had gotten them out of the woods and into this place, and this place _was_ on its face, pretty amazing. Like their rooms on this floor. They might have only been four plain walls and a couple of couches, but compared to the way they'd been living for almost a month now, four real walls and a couple of couches was practically the Shangri La! And when you threw in not only having AC and indoor plumbing again, but actually having PRIVATE bathrooms with hot, running water, Carol had been thinking (once they did that final walker check) that she could gleefully spend the rest of her days living inside this place with her little girl, and the group that was becoming their new family.

But of course that was a pipe dream.

Because she knew that eventually whatever generators were keeping the water hot and the lights on and the AC blasting, well, they were going to run out of power. The food would go too. At that point they'd have to either move on to somewhere else, or start going out and scavenging again. But for now, maybe even for a few months, or potentially a year or so, (if God was kinder than he'd been lately), they'd have shelter and food, and . . . she sighed . . . showers. The shower thing was just a bonus . . . it was amazing how quickly priorities shifted when the world ended . . . but it wasn't a bonus that she was ever going to take for granted again. Because getting to take a hot soapy shower that night, her first one in maybe six or seven weeks, had practically been an orgasmic experience. Though the last orgasm she'd had (battery operated of course) was probably a few months or so even before her last _shower_ , so she was really digging into her long term memories now. Thinking about orgasms though, that did put her mind onto the other thing that was keeping her awake. Her mouth twisted then with a sad smile.

And that would be Daryl.

The man had been on her mind pretty much constantly all evening. Which was, if she was honest with herself, the main reason why she was so keyed up. Because for the last few hours, she'd been feeling this pull in her gut like she should go talk to him. Though if she did venture out into that cold, empty hallway to go over and knock on his door, what she would actually _say_ to him if he opened it up, she had no idea. Her mind just kept going blank at that point. And that was even though there had been a time in the very recent past, where spending private time with Daryl had been the most natural thing in the world. But that was because they'd bonded very quickly after her arrival in camp. Unfortunately they'd lost that special connection just before Merle was left behind here in the city. One situation technically had nothing to do with the other, but at the time Merle disappeared, she'd already been heartbroken about losing what she'd been building with Daryl. And then once Merle _was_ gone, Daryl's rage over how he'd lost his brother, had pushed him completely off the rails. So even though Ed was gone now too (and she'd been thanking God every day for finally letting her and Sophia get free from that man), she still hadn't tried to talk to Daryl yet, to see if he was interested in picking up from before. She'd just been afraid that he was still too angry at the world to want to focus yet on . . . she sighed . . . other things. Not that his rage hadn't been understandable.

Or at least it had been understandable to her.

Because even if Merle wasn't anyone to write home about, (unless it was a REALLY bad letter), he was still Daryl's only family and what had been done to him, accident or not, was horrible. So Carol could put herself in Daryl's position, to imagine a situation where say, someone went off with Sophia . . . the only family SHE had left . . . and just _left_ her girl somewhere. If that happened she'd be OUT OF HER MIND(!) crazy and frantic, imagining all of the terrible things that could be happening to her girl. So unlike the others, who had mostly just shown annoyance at Daryl's grief driven outbursts, all she'd been was worried about him. And she would have liked to see if there was anything she could have done to help him these last few days, but again, she hadn't thought he was in the right mindset to want to talk to anyone about anything.

He'd just needed to rage for a little while.

And from her own experiences with him, she'd known that rage would pass soon enough, because it really was out of character for him to be so volatile. Yes, Daryl had gotten into a few heated exchanges with some of the other members of the camp even before Merle's loss, but in most of those cases, Daryl hadn't been the one to start things. Generally he'd just been defending himself or his brother. And he wasn't always the one in the wrong either. Sometimes people just liked to think that he was 'less' because of how he talked, and how he looked. That was still the problem with the people left alive even now.

They kept judging others based on their appearance.

And based on their _appearance_ alone, the Dixon brothers might have been taken for ignorant, backwoods, hillbillies. The only part of that assessment which would be true though, was the backwoods thing. Because it had been obvious to Carol from her first day in camp, that both Daryl and Merle were much sharper, and more observant, than any of the others gave them credit for. Daryl especially was _very_ clever, which was why it was so strange to her how she seemed to have been the only one to have picked up on that. Her expression softened.

Or maybe it was just that she was the only one who had cared to look at him beyond the superficial.

But when her family had first arrived up at the quarry with Lori and Shane and Carl, the Dixons had already been in camp for two or three days. And it was within an hour of them unpacking, that the other women already there, like Andrea and Jacqui, had come over to start warning her and Lori away from any kind of contact with either Daryl or Merle. When it came to Merle, yes, the reasons for a person to keep their distance from him had been obvious on their face. Because really, it wasn't like he'd ever tried to project a version of himself to the world, that was any different than the man he'd been. And the man Merle Dixon had been, was a loud, racist, foulmouthed, jerk. Such a jerk in fact, that outside of sharing his brother's hunting skills . . . which the group had quickly become dependent on to keep full bellies for the children . . . the only thing Merle'd had going for him character wise, was that he had taken an instant dislike of Ed.

It was honestly the only other positive thing Carol could say about that man.

With Daryl though, after being around him for barely a day, and comparing his actual behavior to what she'd been _told_ about his behavior, to Carol it had seemed that he was disliked more for association with his brother, than for anything that he'd actually done himself. Yes again, he had butted heads a few times with the others, and with Shane most especially. But by Carol's initial observations even then, it had seemed that Shane had been as much responsible for those run-ins (and all of their subsequent ones) as Daryl was. And knowing Shane as she did _now_ , she knew how much of a genuine prick that man could be all on his own for no reason, to anyone and everyone. Most especially though, to anyone he saw was a threat to his authority.

Like Daryl was.

Which was why during those few weeks when they were all together, no matter what Daryl did to try and help the group, be it bringing in fresh game for them on a near daily basis, being the first one to step up to take out a stray walker, or just putting himself out there going on runs for gas and general supplies, none of it had ever been good enough for Shane to show him even an ounce of real respect. It had always been just a patronizing tolerance. She scowled a bit.

It was the exact same thing that he showed towards her.

In Daryl's case though, Shane also liked to mutter under his breath about him and Merle being meth heads. And that was one insult in particular which had really bothered her, because yet _again_ , the only one of the Dixon brothers who Carol had ever seen using drugs or acting like they were, 'under the influence,' had been Merle. If anything Daryl had always looked kind of embarrassed, and a little annoyed, when his brother would show up for meals blatantly high as a kite. Because of course he'd known that was only going to make things worse when it came to their interactions with the group.

And the group had definitely taken Shane's lead in how to treat the brothers.

Carol though, she'd very quickly come to see a completely different side of Daryl. Because in her early days, she'd just been so happy to be around other people again . . . Ed had never allowed her to be around other people . . . that she'd immediately started looking for ways to try to make herself useful in the hopes that that would deflect from just how lazy and unhelpful, Ed was. So after their first full day at the quarry where she'd made herself a quick study of the basic routine of who generally did what when it came to chores, the next morning she'd started her _own_ routine. One where she'd get up in the pre-dawn hour . . . a full hour before the other ladies . . . so she could stoke the coals for the day's fire, and get breakfast going for everyone. And usually the only other person up at that time of the morning (besides whoever was sitting up on the roof on walker duty) was Daryl, because he'd head out early every day to go hunting. That first day she got up though . . . her eyes crinkled as she thought back . . . he'd barely even looked at her.

At least not straight in the eye.

It had felt more like when she was back high school, and the shy boys would only look at the girls if they thought they weren't looking back. That was Daryl. So it wasn't until day two where she'd gotten a little bit of real eye contact from him. That was the day she'd also gotten her first, 'grunt.' And that was while he'd been walking over to grab up the first cup of coffee from the pot, and the first scoop of the oatmeal that she'd made. It wasn't until later that evening when she'd got _another_ grunt while she'd been passing him his bowl of rabbit stew, that Carol had realized the grunts had simply been Daryl's way of saying thank you. And the next morning, to add onto the first grunt of the day, there'd also been a little head tip from him after he'd cleaned out his bowl of hot cereal, and finished off his second cup of coffee. That time the translation had been immediately clear.

 _That was good . . . thank you._

His behavior had been fascinating to her. Because just being around a man like that, one who spoke so few words, but still managed to project a genuine gratitude for her efforts, had been really touching. Probably because that gratitude from him, had been more than she'd ever gotten from her own husband.

Ever.

At first she'd been thinking they would just go on like that indefinitely. Because even though she'd thought that his shy ways were kind of sweet . . . those shy boys were the ones she'd liked in high school . . . it had been so long since she'd talked to a man, _as_ a man, that she was sure any attempt on her part to make conversation with him, would've just ended in her making a fool of herself. But then came their third day of having breakfast alone together, and that was the day when the conscious decision to talk or not talk, was taken completely out of both their hands.

And she could only thank her COMPLETE and utter stupidity for it!

Because that morning, while she'd been leaning over the pit and stirring the regular pan of oatmeal, she hadn't noticed a breeze had started to kick up around her. The breeze had fanned the flames of the fire well above what they'd should have been.

But she hadn't pick up on that either.

Suddenly though, Daryl had jumped up from his chair, and had grabbed her arm as he'd yanked her back to his chest. And she'd been so startled by _his_ actions . . . she still hadn't noticed how high the flames had gotten . . . that with her other arm, she'd knocked the oatmeal off the tripod and it had splattered into the fire. But even while she'd been letting out a horrified, "oh, God, I ruined breakfast!" Daryl had been busy putting out the spark she'd caught on her sleeve. Yeah, that had been the biggest thing she'd missed.

Her sweater catching on fire.

It had all happened so fast that she honestly hadn't realized what was going on, until this man, who to that point hadn't spoken even one full syllable to her yet, was furiously rubbing her wrist and forearm between both of his palms. And he _kept_ rubbing at it until the thin fabric had finally stopped smoking. That's when he'd finally pulled his slightly blackened hands away. Then his wild eyes had snapped down to hers, and he'd hissed, "are you all right?!" That was the first thing he'd ever said to her.

 _Are you all right?!_

And the words had come with a clear note of panic and worry. For a second though, she'd still been too stunned at how quickly she'd gone from blindly stirring the oatmeal, to her clothes BEING ON FIRE, to even answer him. She'd just stared up into those bright blue eyes of his reflecting back the flames down below. But then there had been another little kick-up of the breeze and she'd gotten a whiff of the ruined breakfast. That's when she'd looked down at her arm still bent stiff out there in front of her.

There was a brownish black puckering covering over most of the bottom half of her sleeve.

"I, I don't know," she'd finally stuttered back to him, with a touch of her own rising panic starting to undercut her words, "but my arm feels really warm!"

At the time it hadn't occurred to her how her arm might have felt so warm because Daryl had been _rubbing_ it so hard to put out the spark. And given how he'd clucked and bit his lip at her response, she was pretty sure when she gave him that answer, that point hadn't occurred to _him_ yet either. So with images of burning flesh bubbles rising beneath the puckered cloth of her sweater, with her other hand, Carol had gone to yank the cuff up. But then again Daryl's hand had clamped down on her other wrist, that time to stop her movement as he'd hissed, "Jesus, no! You gotta do it slow! 'Cuz if any of the fabric melted to your skin, you don't want to be ripping that off!"

It was a comment that had painted SUCH an immediate, and horrifying, picture in her mind, that Carol had actually turned her head and spit up a little pool of bile, and fresh coffee, into the dirt at their feet. And apparently her getting sick like that had really made an impression on Daryl. So he'd reached out and touched her shoulder, and when her watery eyes had snapped up to his, all she'd seen was a sad, very gentle, smile.

"It'll be all right," he'd whispered to her with a much softer tone than he'd used the last time, "ya just gotta do it real careful, that's all."

His calm had helped her a little, but still she'd felt sick. So she'd continued to just stare up at him for a minute until finally her free hand had fallen to her stomach, and she'd looked off into the darkened trees.

"You do it," she'd crackled over the gravel in her throat, "I can't."

So he had.

With her eyes still locked onto the early morning mist swirling through the trees, she'd felt Daryl, so slowly, and oh so _very_ gently, loosening her cuff, and then sliding that crispy fabric up her arm. It wasn't until the morning air was cooling her too warm skin, that his fingertips had begun to ghost along her flesh, turning her arm one way, and then the other. When he'd finally finished checking her over, he'd let both of his hands fall away, and then there had been a faint, relieved, hum of, "naw, you're okay. It's just a bit pink, is all. Must've got it right when it started smoking."

Then before she could even react to that, he'd turned around, and with the big stick they kept by the pit to stoke up the flames, he'd dug the slightly scorched oatmeal pan out of the fire. After that, he'd grabbed one of their pot holders, and had reached down to pick it up by the handle. It wasn't until she'd seen him turn and walk over to the bushes to dump out the burned food back in the weeds where nobody else would see it, that she'd felt a peculiar fluttering in her stomach. Because that's when everything he'd just done for her had finally sunk in, and she'd realized how that man who everybody else barely seemed to tolerate, really was NOTHING at all like what the others thought. The reality was, that buried right beneath the surface of those rough manners of his, was a gentle, kind, man. The problem had been, was that back when all that had happened, she hadn't been able to tell anyone else what she'd learned about him that day, because then she would have had to explain about the fire, and the oatmeal, and how afterwards, Daryl had taken care of first her, and then everything else.

And Ed would have made her pay dearly for all of that.

First, he would have given her a smack simply for not paying attention to the flames, and then she would have gotten a SECOND smack for 'wasting food.' And that was just the light stuff. The full on beating would have come once he'd known how Daryl had touched her the way that he had. It wouldn't have mattered that the touch was innocent, that he'd only been checking for burns, because when Ed was alive she hadn't been allowed to have any kind of physical contact with another man. Even her doctors had had to be women. Her jaw twisted.

That had been another one of 'Ed's Rules.'

So nobody ever knew what Daryl had done for her . . . how that was the first time that he'd saved her. And later that afternoon while they were all eating lunch, when Andrea had started in on him for something so stupid that Carol couldn't even remember now what it was, she hadn't stood up for him. She'd put her fears for her own safety above what she'd known was the right thing to do.

She'd been so ashamed of herself.

And that was even though Daryl personally, hadn't seemed to have held her silence against her. Because from that day on, the day her sweater had caught fire, he'd become . . . she bit her lip as she thought back . . . protective. Not in front of the others of course, that would have been bad for both of them, but on each of those subsequent mornings after the day where the flames had fanned too high, she would get up to make breakfast for the group, and Daryl would already be there, standing by the pit and stoking the fire . . . but spreading out the coals at the same time.

It had been like he'd wanted to make sure she didn't catch a stray flame again.

And even though at first they were both maybe a little nervous around each other, they'd never really been all that awkward. Because after two more days of them alone in the morning with her shy smiles to him, and his very faint, though obvious amusement at the way she'd talk to herself while she got breakfast ready, by their fifth day . . . her sixth day in camp . . . they had finally figured out how to spend that time together. And what they'd worked out, was that while she'd cook, he would sit on the log bench drinking his coffee and watching the flames for her. And that's when they'd begun to talk about the world like it had been before. Not how their personal lives had been . . . from the beginning, she'd had a gut feeling that was as dark a territory for him as it was her . . . but more just random things. TV shows they'd watched growing up. Music they'd liked when they were teenagers.

Strange things that they'd missed.

Like the sound of an airplane flying overhead, or the hum of a refrigerator in the middle of the night. The feel of a can of cold can of beer on a hot day, when you first pressed it against your cheek.

That last one had been Daryl's.

And after he'd murmured those words down into his coffee cup, afterwards he'd seemed kind of embarrassed. Like he'd shared something that he'd thought she'd think was silly. Which was why she'd quickly given him a little smile across the fire, and after a moment he'd given her a grateful nod back . . . then everything had been okay again.

It was like her sweater catching that spark, had formed one between them too.

Or maybe that was just a silly, lonely woman's, thought. Whatever it was that had happened between them during those few weeks though, it had been real. She was sure enough of that.

And it had meant the world to her.

A few times Daryl had even said something to make her a laugh. And when that had happened, she'd seen how her being happy seemed to make him happy. His eyes would sparkle a bit and a faint smile would start to pull at the corner of his mouth. But he'd always bring the back of his hand up to cover it over, almost like he'd been embarrassed. If she'd had more confidence in herself, she might have told him that he hadn't needed to ever be embarrassed about anything he did in front of her. That she would never make fun. But she'd never said those words to him.

It was another of her regrets.

At her age she had so many now. And because their little bubble had popped so suddenly, she'd had no time yet to make that last one right either. Because it was two days before that run to Atlanta where Rick became a part of their group, when she'd tripped on a rock. That's what had ruined everything between them.

A rock.

It had happened at dinner time, the sun was just starting to set, the evening meal of brown beans and fried squirrel was already cooked, and she'd been carrying the stack of clean plates and silverware from the RV, down the hill and over to the pit. It had been a cloudy day though, and with it being so late, there had been too many shadows under the trees. So that's why she'd missed seeing the edge of the big rock poking up out of the dirt. And right when she'd tripped, Daryl had just been coming up from the other direction to go sit down for dinner. Most everybody else had already gathered together and were there talking, and going over the day.

He'd been one of the stragglers.

And when she'd suddenly stumbled, she'd ended up losing her footing completely. She'd gone down to both knees, and one hand, with the plastic plates making an awful racket as they'd flown from her arms and had scattered around her. Then with Daryl, it was just like the day with her sweater. Like he hadn't even thought about where they were, or who was around, he'd just rushed right towards her, looking so worried, asking if she was okay. And that was even though usually they were SO careful not to ever talk when anyone else was around to see them. On that day though, when he'd got to where she was on the ground, he'd already been reaching out to help her up. But she'd been frozen down there. Because they hadn't been alone.

Ed had been there.

 _Everyone_ had been there! But she'd known that her husband was the one who was watching them the closest, and so she'd been absolutely terrified of what he might've done to her . . . to both of them . . . if she'd actually taken Daryl's hand like she'd so desperately wanted to. And while she'd been thinking about that, thinking just how much she'd wanted to be free, that's when her eyes had started to well up. And when Daryl had seen her tears, his jaw had tightened.

He'd yanked his hand away.

Until that moment, there had just been silence from the small group down the hill. But then Merle had let out a cackle of, "oh baby brother, you so sweeeet!" followed by 'kissing' sounds. Daryl's face had immediately flushed pink straight up to the tips of his ears. And she'd hated Merle so much in that moment. For embarrassing his brother just because he'd cared that she was hurt, and had been trying to be nice to her. Because then right after that, Daryl had suddenly kicked the plates out of his way, and had turned and stormed off into the woods. Of course he hadn't come back for dinner, and that night she'd still gotten an extra hard, closed fist, punch from Ed. Not only because of Daryl . . . "you're thinking about whoring around on me with that dirty redneck, aren't ya," was what he'd hissed in her ear . . . but simply for dropping the plates.

Because that was just how things were.

And the next morning, even with her skinned palm from the fall, and the pain from the fresh bruise on her ribs, she'd still been so looking forward to seeing Daryl, and apologizing to him for how she'd frozen up in front of everyone. In her mind she'd thought it wouldn't be that hard to smooth everything over.

To make it like it had never happened.

Because she'd just been so sure that after Daryl'd had the night to let that scene really sink in, he would have understood for himself how there had been no way for things to have gone any differently than they'd had. Because before that moment on the hill, their interactions had always been carefully restricted, first to only those pre-dawn hours, and then later to moments stolen together down by the quarry. And the first quarry meeting had been a complete accident. It was maybe a week after they'd started having breakfast together, that one afternoon she'd gone down there alone to get a shirt she'd left drying on the scrub. It wasn't until she'd reached the bottom of the grade that she'd realized Daryl had gotten back to camp, and was taking a swim to cool down after being out roaming the woods for ten hours. When she'd seen him floating there, slowly fanning his legs back and forth, gliding across that smooth water, she'd been almost hypnotized. She'd found herself dropping down to the sand just to watch him.

Really, she'd never seen anyone so graceful in the water.

Luckily though, he'd still been wearing all of his clothes for that swim, or else when he'd spotted her over on the beach he probably would have been completely mortified. As it was, instead he'd just flipped his body around with a faint splash, and had started to tread water. After a minute of just staring at her, he'd looked up to the sky, and then he'd looked back to her, before he'd finally called over, "if you can come back same time tomorrow, I'll be here. You bring some washing, and I'll put my stuff on the other shore, so then if anyone else comes by, they'll just think it's a coincidence we're here at the same time."

His words had been loud enough for her to hear, but definitely not loud enough to travel beyond the confines of the quarry itself. And the thought of them having a regular, secret meeting like that out in the daytime, had been so exhilarating that she'd actually felt a fresh swirl of butterflies in her stomach. And by then, just seeing Daryl had been enough for those butterflies to show up all on their own. That's why it had seemed worth the risk of someone possibly getting suspicious of them, just to get more time together. So she'd given him a nod and a happy smile, and told him that Ed was usually napping from three to five anyway, so she'd find a way to get back without anyone else noticing.

And she had.

For most of their second week together, they'd had their mornings by the fire and then their afternoons by the water. The latter meeting was only fifteen, twenty minutes at most just to be safe though. And they always spent the time the same way, with him in the shallows and her over on the shore. That way even if they were spotted together, it would have been very hard to accuse them of fooling around when they had a whole body of water between them. It had all looked very innocent.

And mostly it was.

Sometimes he'd tell her about his day in the woods, like if he'd seen any walkers or had traveled somewhere new. And sometimes she'd tell him what the gossip was around the camp, but other times they talked about more serious things. Like if he'd spotted a new bruise on her body, he'd ask what had happened. So then she'd tell him what she'd 'done' (usually nothing) to earn that one. And Daryl would get so mad, and he'd talk about beating the crap out of Ed. Telling her how he'd do it when she was ready to get free of him.

Those would be the days she'd start to cry.

Because she'd known that she was never going to be ready. If she'd had that kind of courage, then she would have stayed at the shelter in Atlanta all those years ago. And with the way the world had become after the turn, Ed himself had gotten so much more dangerous than even he'd been before. Nothing was keeping him in check, and she hadn't been willing to risk Daryl getting hurt. Not on her account. So she'd just sniffle and wave her hand at him, and shake her head.

And he'd let it go.

Usually after that he'd just swim and watch her out of the corner of his eye, while she'd pretend to scrub up some already clean shirts while she'd watched him out of the corner of _her_ eye. And that probably wouldn't have seemed like anything at all to anyone else. But to them . . . to two people who literally had nothing . . . it was a lot.

For her it had been everything.

Which was why she'd been sure that the day after she'd tripped over that damn rock, the plan she'd had to get her and Daryl back on track . . . for however long they could have _stayed_ on that track . . . should have gone off without any problems. But that was before she'd realized that Daryl had apparently made a _different_ plan for that morning. One where he'd both refused to look at her, or speak to her, no matter how much she'd apologized or pleaded with him, to please just listen to what she'd wanted to say. Instead he'd simply shoveled down his oatmeal, and tossed back his coffee, while he'd stood on the other side of the fire, and outside the circle of chairs. He'd been making it clear to her that the only reason he'd shown up was because he'd needed to eat . . . not because he'd wanted to see her. Because then when he was done, he'd walked over and dropped both the bowl and the cup, down by her feet.

They'd hit the ground with a clatter.

And she'd burst into tears.

Because after _eleven days_ with all that time together, him deciding to cut her off at the knees like that, really had broken her heart. They'd built a sweet friendship, with a hint of something more building underneath . . . and it had been ruined. The worst part for her at the time though, was how her tears hadn't seemed to affect Daryl at all. Because after he'd dropped the dishes, he'd just turned and stalked off, throwing his bow over his shoulder as he went. But then a few minutes later, while she was still sitting there sniffling and staring into the flames, with that sick lump in her stomach and ache in her chest, she'd heard the snap of a branch.

She'd spun around just in time to see Daryl stepping back out of the trees.

For a moment all he'd done was stare down at her with this expression that she hadn't been able to read at all. Then finally his lips had pursed and his jaw had twitched, and he'd cleared his throat.

That's when he'd told her that he was going away.

What he'd said specifically, was that he was planning on doing a proper hunt deep in the woods to look for bigger game, so he wouldn't be back for probably three, four days at least, depending on how things went. Then he'd paused for a second before he'd added, in the softest tone a person could imagine, how he'd just figured that might be something she'd want to know. When he'd finished speaking, she'd blinked . . . and another one of those tears had started to roll down her cheek. Because that was the moment she'd known without a doubt, that he'd cared for her the same as she did for him. Still though, he'd decided to leave anyway, and she'd known even then that he hadn't been going off for a sudden 'big game' hunt that he'd never mentioned was necessary before. No, he'd been leaving because of her.

Their lines had started to blur too much.

And if he'd stayed then, something probably would've happened. And with Ed already getting suspicious of them from the night before, that something probably would have gotten her killed. Maybe Daryl too. So she'd let him go with a broken, "thank you for telling me." His expression had softened then, because even if he obviously had been trying to push her away, he hadn't been able to keep up that edge with her. And because of that . . . and even knowing the risk of doing it . . . she'd found herself reaching out to catch Daryl's fingers where they'd been dangling down by his thigh. She'd only wanted to touch him.

Because she'd never had the courage to before.

But when she did turn his hand over, and brushed her thumb along his palm . . . he'd winced. That's when she'd realized how much she was hurting him. So she'd quickly let go, and as her arm had fallen back to her lap, her eyes had fallen with it. Then she'd wished him luck, and told him to be careful. A moment later she'd heard the crunching of the leaves.

That's when she'd known he was gone.

It was another two beats before she'd looked up, and by then he'd already disappeared back into the forest. Three and a half days later he'd returned to camp chasing the trail of that buck. Right after that was when everything had gone to hell with Rick arriving, and Merle getting left behind.

Then the walkers came.

She and Daryl hadn't had a private talk since the morning he'd left on that hunt nobody had ever thanked him for going on.

That had been six days ago.

Four days later . . . the greatest day of her life . . . Ed was killed. And it was after she'd bashed in the brains of her bastard husband, that Carol had noticed how Daryl was starting to pay attention to her like he had before. At first it was like he'd bounce between those bouts of rage about what had happened to his brother, and then there would be this quiet brooding. It was during the quiet brooding when she'd find him staring at her like he used to when they would sit alone by the fire. So she was pretty sure that meant whatever they'd had before, was something that he was starting to want back. She did too.

If only she could figure out how exactly to get them there.

It certainly helped that their two dead, asshole, relatives wouldn't be around to torture them anymore. Well . . . Carol bit her lip . . . Merle might not actually _be_ dead, but he'd gone missing apparently with one hand chopped off and in the middle of a city overrun with walkers. Which basically meant he was as good as dead, (or undead), because nobody could survive like that all alone. For Daryl's sake that wouldn't have been the end that she would have wanted for his brother, but regardless, she couldn't deny that Merle's absence from the group wasn't a loss for anyone _but_ Daryl.

Though it did seem like even Daryl might have finally made his peace there.

Because tonight over dinner it had been obvious that he'd been in genuinely good spirits. Part of that was probably, partly, the wine . . . it had certainly loosened her up too . . . but still, she had just been so happy to see him happy for the first time since, well, probably before that day she'd tripped out there in front of everyone.

Everything since then had been one horrific mess after another.

At least until they'd arrived at this place that nobody besides Rick had really believed was anything but a pipe dream. And not only was Daryl looking much better in general just for being there, but it had been about halfway through their Dr. Jenner supplied dinner, when she'd noticed that something in Daryl . . . as in his interest in her . . . had definitely shifted again.

Because he'd been watching her almost constantly from across the table.

It had been at least a half dozen times where she'd actually caught him staring, but each time he'd immediately drop his eyes down to the table or look across the room. Still though, with that much scrutiny from _that_ man, not to mention the wine in her system, by the time everyone had started to stand up and go off bed, she'd actually been feeling a little flushed. So she'd started tugging on her cross. That's when their eyes had met yet again.

It was the first time that night Daryl had really held her gaze.

And before he'd finally blinked and looked over her shoulder, she'd seen something dark in his eyes that had caused that flush to spread to other parts of her body. But she'd tried so hard to push off the tingles she was getting, telling herself that she was getting her hopes up WAY too high. The idea that she could just go straight from the psychotic dead husband, to not only getting Daryl back as her protector and confidante, but also getting him into her BED too(!), no, that was too much for her to process so quickly.

It had seemed like she'd just been setting herself up for heartbreak again.

But then later in the evening, after she'd collected her book from the game room and she'd been walking down the hall to go put the kids to bed, she'd run into Daryl _again_. That time he'd just been stepping out of his room. His hair had been tousled and damp, his chest had been bare, and the only thing that he'd been wearing, at least as far as she could see, had just been a towel over his shoulders, and one wrapped around his waist.

The second one had been riding low on his hips.

Basically he'd looked SO damn sexy, that her libido had gone nuts! Her pulse had been racing, and her cheeks had started to burn so hot that she'd felt like anyone looking at her would seen all those dirty thoughts in her head. And with the way Daryl's attention was so focused on her, suddenly she'd been embarrassed about the ugly, shapeless, pajamas she'd been wearing. Not like she'd ever in her life had she been a person who would have wandered the halls in a negligee . . . most especially with the kids there(!) . . . but still, she'd felt like such an old frump. She might have well as been wearing a housecoat and sweatpants for all the 'sex appeal' she'd been radiating. So then the blush in her cheeks had no longer been her raging hormones, it had been simple humiliation. All she'd been able to stammer out after that was a mumbled, "uh, um, 'scuse us," as she'd quickly shuffled the kids past Daryl and down the hall.

It was after she'd gotten Carl in with Rick, and had been about to continue on to go back to her own room, that she'd thrown a quick glance over her shoulder expecting to see Daryl disappearing into the game room or something. Instead, to her genuine shock, that's when she'd realized he still hadn't moved from the spot from where they'd just crossed paths. He was standing there in the middle of the corridor with his head tilted slightly to the side.

His eyes had been locked right onto hers.

That time neither of them looked away, though her heart was pounding so hard she'd probably looked like one of those cartoon characters where you could see the outline popping out on their chest. What ended up breaking _that_ big moment building between them . . . was Sophia. Suddenly her daughter had whined, as loudly as children always do when they're whining in public, "Mommy, I thought we were going to _bed?!_ " That had been accompanied by a poke of a little finger straight into her stomach.

Carol had literally jumped off the ground when that had happened.

Stage three of her humiliation though, hadn't phased Daryl in the slightest. Instead she'd just seen the corner of his quirk up in that way it used to when he was amused with something she'd done around the fire. Right after the lip quirk, he'd finally turned around and headed off down the corridor. Whether he was going to get a book or a snack or whatever, she still didn't know because that was the last time she'd seen him.

Or again, the last time she'd seen anyone but Sophia.

But obviously her brain just kept circling around that moment in the hallway, and she kept wondering if she was missing the opportunity she'd been waiting for. The one where they could not only fix everything, but have SEX too! And God did she miss sex, and good GOD would she love to have sex with Daryl because she knew that he would be sweet to her . . . her eyes started to sting . . . because he'd _always_ been sweet to her. So in her mind all evening she kept thinking, yes, she should go knock on that door, but then right after she'd start to immediately second guess herself, worrying that maybe what she'd been feeling in the hallway was just the wine making her horny or something. Because it wasn't like Daryl could have helped what he looked like out there. He was just . . . hot. That's all it was. Daryl was hot. He had those cheekbones and those muscles and that way he moved with that swagger. All of those things had been driving her nuts since the day she'd first seen him walking through the camp. So that's why even though she was almost positive he was ready to talk now, she was just so afraid of embarrassing herself again by completely reading his behavior wrong. So maybe . . .

It was just then that Carol's thoughts stuttered to a halt as her eyes snapped towards the locked door across the room.

She'd thought she'd heard a knock, but the sound was so faint that it could have been her imagination. Still, for a moment she just stared at the inside of that painted wood, waiting to see if she heard the noise again.

Ten seconds . . . fifteen . . . still nothing.

And she was just about to let it go most likely as simply a creak in a big building, when she heard the same sound again. Though that time there was no mistaking it for her imagination.

Somebody _was_ knocking on the door.

It was again very faint, but it was happening. And so her eyes shot up to the clock on the wall to see that it was now almost twenty after eleven. Kind of late for visitors in the old world, but in the new one time meant nothing when it came to those kinds of things. So she threw her blanket back and swung her legs around. When her bare feet hit the cold tile, her toes immediately curled up. And not in that good way she remembered her toes curling a long time ago.

Of course that was another unhelpful (Daryl related) thought.

One that she tried to push away as she hurried over to the door, and leaned up on her tiptoes to peak out through the little peephole expecting to see maybe Lori wanting her to take Carl again so she and Rick could have more private time. And in her mind she was so expecting to see Lori or Rick there with a half asleep Carl by their side, that her eyes popped when she saw who actually _was_ out there.

Daryl!

Oh . . . she dropped down and spun back against the wall . . . crap! Somehow she'd conjured him up! For some reason it hadn't occurred to her that he might come knocking on her door, before she decided to go knocking on his.

Which, in retrospect . . . she started nervously biting her lip . . . seemed pretty stupid on her part.

And now she was feeling half elation that he was there, and half in a panic for not knowing WHY he was there! But then she realized that if HE was the one knocking on the door, then unlike her, _he_ must have already figured out what he wanted to say! Which was more than she'd done.

Clearly.

So as she took in a deep breath of air, and let it out slowly, she decided that she'd just take her lead from him. And with that, and a quick brush of her hand down the front of her baggy top . . . God did she hate these damn pajamas . . . she finally reached out to unlock the door.

Then she took another breath, and slowly pulled it back, poking her head around the corner as she did so.

What she saw out there under the warm light hanging overhead, was Daryl dressed in the same clothes he'd been wearing for the last three plus days. Though unlike the last time she'd seen him wearing them, this time his shirt was unbuttoned and hanging loose. His head was down. And he also didn't seem to have noticed yet that she'd opened the door part way. But that was because he was pacing back and forth a few feet in front of it.

Kind of like a panther.

"Hi."

Her greeting came out as a whisper, and even though he was the one who had knocked, it was obvious that she'd scared the hell out of him.

He literally jumped and spun around, his wide eyes shooting straight over to hers.

"Oh, uh, hey," he stammered out as his hand came up to his mouth . . . he started biting his thumbnail, "I thought you might of been sleeping."

She bit her lip.

"No," she murmured back, now with a faint crinkle of her eyes as she slipped out the door and took a step out into the corridor so they wouldn't wake Sophia, "no, I was just reading."

"Oh," he nodded slowly, "right, you got that book." His eyebrow quirked up.

"Uh, is it good?"

Feeling a fresh swirl of butterflies for him then, just for trying to pretend he cared about her book when she knew books were not his thing, she gave him a soft smile.

"I don't know if it's any good," she answered with an honest shrug, "I couldn't focus very well." Then she added more in a whisper, "I had stuff on my mind."

That time she saw Daryl's eyes widen with surprise . . . and maybe just a little bit of hope.

"Yeah?" He took a step closer, "what kind of stuff?"

And that's when she started to panic again. Because she didn't want to have to take charge of the conversation here! He was the one who had knocked, so he had to have decided on how he wanted this to go!

Which was why HE should go first!

And for that reason, rather than being honest again, she just shook her head.

"Nothing in particular really," she lied with a twist of her hands, "just a busy day I guess."

The second those words left her mouth, she hated herself for them. Because that time she could see how Daryl's face fell completely. Of course he tried to hide it by looking away, but she still caught that wince of disappointment. And then again it was there in his tone when he murmured, "yeah right, it's been a busy day."

That's when she remembered how shy he'd been at those first breakfasts. Daryl might have been handsome, but he was not . . . she bit her lip . . . smooth. Or confident. It was that bluster he used to cover over the lack of confidence in himself, because he really was just a sweet, quiet, guy under there. And really, thinking about it, she realized it had probably taken all of his courage just to come over and knock on the door. And here she was basically punishing him for doing exactly what she'd WANTED him to do . . . just talk to her again!

So before the awkward silence stretched out any longer, she cleared her throat. And when his eyes darted back up to hers, she steered her own courage.

"Did you come over for something in particular?" she whispered, hoping that would be enough to help him along. Unfortunately though, it seemed like the awkward silence had already beat down Daryl's courage. Because instead of speaking his mind then, his gaze dropped down to the shiny floor.

"Uh, well," his jaw twitched, "I was um, uh . . ."

And then his voice faded off with a heavy sigh.

"Naw," he murmured, still looking down by their feet, "it was stupid, I'll uh," he brought his hand up in a halfhearted wave over her shoulder, "I'll just let you get back to bed."

Then he turned . . . and started down the hall.

And for a second she just stood there, feeling her nails digging into her palms, and her eyes starting to fill with hot tears, as she watched him walk away.

Again.

And this time it was her fault. Because he'd tried . . . but she'd let him flounder, because she hadn't wanted to go first. Of course she STILL didn't want to go first, because she was terrified of making a fool of herself if they weren't on the same page yet. But . . . she winced . . . one of them had to start this conversation.

Otherwise they were just wasting more time they didn't have.

So she closed her eyes, and breathed out the one word she so desperately needed for him to hear.

"Wait."

* * *

 _A/N 2: Kind of a long note, but if you're interested, it explains how I built this in my mind as canon for them._

 _So I got the idea initially for this from the stable scene in season two where Carol says to Daryl, "I can't lose you too," because what she said didn't make any sense :) The logical statement from her would have been more like, "I'd feel terrible if something happened to you too." That's the basic, human, guilt reaction, "I can't have your death on my conscience." But what Carol said was VERY different from that. Her phrasing was much more intimate and clearly implied an existing emotional attachment already in place between them, that had NO obvious grounds in their (to date at that time) onscreen canon interactions. Their only notable screen time they'd had together before the saga of Sophia's disappearance, was back when she'd bashed in her husband's brains. So I started mentally tracking back to a likely place where real intimacy and bonding could have happened with them, and that would've been starting with those days before Rick arrived in the camp. I've said over in Cedar Forest that those early morning breakfasts would have been the logical place for them to bond initially. But then rather than my total AU story (which I tried to be very conscious of not emulating too much in events of their back story HERE :)), we kind of stick with onscreen canon, but with the twist on why Daryl had really left the camp was to try and protect her because they had started to get too close and Ed was getting suspicious. Then the CDC worked perfectly as the place for them to get back together. Ed's dead. Daryl's finally making peace with Merle's 'loss' and he'd started to become more the Daryl that we know he always was underneath. Again, I've said in my other stories, I feel like he was always that Daryl in canon too, it was just that we met him on screen, on the worst day of his life so he was going to be kind of a dick for those few days :) The CDC was where he'd seemed to decide to let that anger about Merle go, and it was also (as I can show in some screen caps I pulled for TS-19 :)) where he starts to notably hover around Carol. Not just on the elevator, but throughout the episode. I have more on that, but I'll save it for my chapter two notes :)_

 _To the particulars here though, for their big 'bonding moment' to make it very different from CF, I figured her catching a spark on her sweater would have been very plausible, and something that would have instantly broken through what would have likely been his initial reticence and awkwardness around her. Because we know if Carol was 'on fire' Daryl would have jumped right in there to help her :)_

 _Carol's CDC pajamas were the LEAST sexy pajamas ever created, so it was impossible for that not to be an element here for her thought process. They might have been clean and comfortable, which is great for being clean, and sleeping, but if you're looking at a half naked Daryl wondering if maybe he wants to have sex with you, I feel like no matter how great your body is, baggy, shapeless, flannel is going to DEcrease your confidence in this area! Ha, ha!_

 _And also, it wasn't until I was writing the opening with Carol's narrative that I consciously processed that parallel between Rick leaving Merle, and then Rick leaving Sophia, so he was directly responsible for both Carol and Daryl losing the only family they had left. Obviously it wasn't 'malicious' with either of them, but still thinking about it, it is kind of unsettling. Especially when it all comes full circle in season four, where Rick goes off with Carol . . . and leaves HER! So Daryl loses both of the people that he loves, because Rick fucking dumps them somewhere! It also ties in that thread of Lori telling Carol that she needs to stop blaming Rick, when Daryl blamed Rick too. I like Rick, a lot, he's my favorite after our Dynamic Duo, but that's really pretty messed up when you lay it all out. And in retrospect it again makes me wish there had been more accountably there for him, and some of those choices he made. I know all the deaths weigh on him and he tries to do what's best for everyone, but outside of losing Lori, he hasn't suffered personally in the same way that most everyone else has. And a lot of them suffered for HIS choices. But he's got his health, both of his kids, and a pretty new, ass kicking, wife. It just sort of reminds me in season 2 when Andrea was telling off Lori for not really 'getting it' because she still had all the things everyone else had lost. And now I'm thinking about doing something to make Rick suffer over in CF, but, I have now clearly digressed from my initial comments :)_

 _Back on point, Carol had no confidence in those early days either. So the two of them might have fallen into an easy 'platonic' relationship just for being kindred souls, but seeing them both trying to 'fix' a broken relationship, while possibly moving it forward to something physical, seemed like it would be much harder for them. Both of them would be afraid of putting themselves out there and reading things the wrong way. So I wanted to have Daryl have just enough of a need to want to fix things and be with her, to knock on the door, but I knew there was NO way, he was going to have any kind of 'speech' ready :) That's why he was like, 'okay, I'm here and you're awake . . . now you say something.' Ha, ha! So it falls to poor emotionally damaged Carol, to cowgirl up here. Next time we'll see how that 'conversation' goes. And this is just a two parter, and the rest of the story is already drafted. I just need to clean it up, so I'm hopeful I can get it wrapped by early-mid next week, so it can just be done :) And I've been pulling this one together for a year now folks, so I'd love to hear your thoughts on it! Can we make them a canon back story based on that one line from Carol in the stables?_

 _Thanks all :)_


	2. Life, From Scratch

**Author's Note** : Thanks for the lovely reviews on chapter one, folks! It's always nice to hear when you're happy with something :)

I had planned to wrap this in one additional chapter but the final draft was forty pages, and it was just too much to proof at once. As I said on Tumblr, my eye was twitching just looking at the page count. Sooo, instead of wrapping in two, we're doing a three shot for sienna's sanity :)

FYI, through the end of this, there is a bit of explicit smuttiness. I know for some people that's a bonus :) but I have also known others who have said they prefer to skim that stuff, so I always give the advisory. You'll know it when you get there.

Also, a SEPARATE important advisory unrelated to their happy sex, is that there are also some sensitive points covered (again through to the end of the story) as relates to Carol's sex life with Ed. I wrote it with the intention of it being a little uncomfortable because it would have felt false to not feel some discomfort being in her head, but it's not written to be genuinely "upsetting." Obviously personal experiences will dictate one person's discomfort to another's truly upsetting, but I personally felt it stayed well over on the right side of the line. There are no detailed scenes of an assault (I do NOT write rape fics, FYI), mostly it's just a few quick allusions from her memories. Plus there are some elements of how she reacts to things because of that past with him, because I felt it would be a disserve to not attempt to 'realistically' (such as realism applies here) try to process Carol's feelings of anticipation about being in a new _loving_ relationship, against her ingrained behaviors and reactions learned from her _abusive_ relationship, when she hasn't had time to really start healing yet from what Ed did to her. Remember, we're picking up just days later. And yes, I usually do these longer notes at the end, but I felt like this was important enough to cover up front in a little more detail about what's coming, because there's always someone out there who needs to be careful what they read for their own well being, and you don't want to be an ass about that kind of thing. It's kind of my life motto, just don't be an ass. Now picture it in Latin :)

So, moving on now, direct pickup!

* * *

 **Life, From Scratch**

Carol found that in the silence, her whisper did carry down the corridor, because Daryl suddenly froze there in the middle of it. And as he slowly turned to look over his shoulder, she realized that this was it.

She needed to be brave.

So even though she was now out, barefoot, about to stumble into something she was not prepared to handle, she took a deep breath . . . and started down the hall. And when Daryl turned to face her then instead of immediately backing away . . . because she could just picture _that_ happening . . . her confidence grew.

Slightly.

So she continued on down to where he was standing, in the shadowy, after hours lighting.

When she finally stopped in front of him, she could see how wide his eyes were. There were questions there . . . that spark of hope was back too.

And that's what pushed her over the top.

She decided that rather than attempting to speak the words that she still didn't have, she'd just try to show him what she was feeling instead. Either way at least she'd know if they were ready to pick up and move forward. So before she lost her nerve, she popped up onto her tiptoes, and pressed a hard kiss onto some surprisingly soft lips.

Unfortunately, it immediately became apparent that she'd caught Daryl completely off guard.

Because he actually let out a grunt of "whoa," as he stumbled backwards a step and they broke apart . . . it was a moment of absolute mortification. And seeing him blink in shock as he looked down at her, she was so embarrassed that her hand flew up to her mouth, as her skin burned.

"Oh God, I'm sorry!" she choked out right before she spun around to run back to her room. But she didn't get more than two steps before she felt a strong arm catch her around the waist.

Daryl pulled her back to his chest.

"No," he breathed into her ear, "no, it's okay. Don't go. You just caught me by surprise, is all. I didn't know you were gonna do that."

"Yeah well, I did I do that," she sniffled out, trying so hard to ignore how good it felt to be pressed against him, "and now I'd like to go back to my room. So if you can please let me go."

When she asked him to let go, Daryl's arm immediately fell away. But before she could take another step, he'd had popped around in front of her.

He was leaning down to catch her eyes.

"Oh, please don't cry, darlin'," he murmured sadly, "you didn't do nothin' wrong. And if you just stay a second I think I can make it better."

She blinked and sniffled and shook her head.

"How are you going to make it . . .?"

Before she could get the whole question choked out, her lips were suddenly meeting Daryl's again. And even though he'd caught her as much off guard as she'd caught him, he had at least anticipated what had gone wrong the last time. At least that's why she was assuming his arm had snaked around her waist.

So she wouldn't trip back.

The kiss itself though, that was . . . interesting. Not bad, or good, just sort of a peck, but a little more insistent than that. And when Daryl pulled away, his arm also fell back to his side, and he had a curious look on his face. It very likely matched the one that she was wearing on her own face. Because she wasn't quite sure what was happening, except that it was wonderful and strange at the same time. It felt like she was twelve years old and practicing kissing in the closet with Tommy Doolittle while they played that game 'Seven Minutes in Heaven.' Except now she wasn't twelve, and Daryl Dixon was the kind of man that scrawny little Tommy Doolittle only could have dreamed about growing into.

And when she reached up to wipe a tear from the corner of her eye, she could see Daryl's jaw begin to twitch, like he was working something out in his head. Whatever it was, he seemed to come up with a solution. Because then he leaned in again. That time he let his hand fall to her hip, and when he tilted his head, and pressed his lips to hers, the sensation was much softer and more real. Before it was like he was trying to figure out what she wanted . . . maybe because of how horribly awkward her own kiss had been . . . and now he was just going more on instinct. And then she felt his mouth open a little.

She couldn't resist doing the same.

There was no tongue on either side, but he did suck on her bottom lip just enough to make it wet. And tasting him there, with the little tingles that he brought, suddenly made her feel ridiculously happy. So much so, that when he finally pulled away, her eyes were shining again as she looked up at him with a big smile.

"You did that a lot better than I did," she whispered. And even though he looked pleased by her reaction . . . his eyes crinkled . . . she saw the faintest blush hit his cheeks too.

Then he looked over her shoulder. And while he was still staring off at something behind her . . . he began to speak.

"I ain't good at talking about stuff," he murmured, "especially stuff like this, but," his gaze bounced back to hers, "I've been missing you. A lot. But I _also_ know," he continued on with a tip of his head, "that you're coming off being with a bad man. So if you got reasons for not to wantin' to . . ."

"No," Carol cut in with a squeak the second she realized what he was about to say, "no, I don't have reasons. I'm just so grateful he's gone, and I um, uh," she started to stammer slightly, "well, I've been missing you too." Her voice faded, "every day actually."

His eyes widened.

"Yeah?"

There was so much hope in his voice, he sounded almost like a little kid. So even though she still felt completely out of sorts trying to express all these things in her head, and her heart, somehow she started to find her way.

"Yeah," she whispered back as her expression softened, "and I'm really scared right now saying this out loud, because I don't want to look stupid, but," she swallowed, "I wasted half my life with Ed, and Sophia's the only good thing to come out of all those years. So if you and me are maybe on the same page now with what we want," her eyes started to water again, "then I don't want to be too afraid to start over," her voice cracked, "I just want to try to be happy for a little while."

That time Daryl didn't say anything. But what he did do was reach out to slide his arm around her waist, and pull her over to his chest. For a second he just held her close as she sniffled into his shirt. But then finally she felt him take a breath right before he tipped his head down, and whispered in her ear.

"You know the first day you showed up in camp, I thought you were the prettiest girl I'd seen since long before the world ended."

His words made her feel warm and happy, but still, she couldn't help but tip her head back to give him a watery, faintly amused, eye roll. Because she was picturing the _other_ women in camp, and she knew the Harrison sisters alone took the top spots on that list. So she huffed out a, "you stop," as she brought her hand up to touch her mouth.

" _Ain't_ gonna stop," Daryl immediately growled back to Carol, because he hated how she looked down on herself so much, "I'm bein' honest." He gave her a look, "and here's more honest. You're a good mama, a good cook, a good person, and," he shook his head as he brought his hand up to cup her jaw, "you're much too kind to people who don't deserve it," his voice faded, "like me."

Seeing one of the tears in Carol's eyes start to slide down her cheek, Daryl moved his hand up to catch it.

He brushed it away.

"Basically you're the best thing going," he continued softly, "and I know it wasn't okay the way I left you that day. I made you cry and I felt real bad about that. So don't be thinkin' I came knocking on your door tonight anything less than on my knees, praying somehow I'd come up with the words to get you back." Then he bit his lip as his brow knitted together.

"Am I getting close?"

"Yeah," she sniffled back with laugh, and a teary smile, "you're actually already there!"

"Well, good," he answered with a relieved exhale, "I'm real glad to hear that. So I'm gonna kiss you again now, okay?"

Carol's eyes crinkled then as she giggled, "actually, you can kiss me all you want! You don't need to ask!"

Seeing the smile pull at the corner of his mouth, made her so happy that she found herself meeting him halfway for that kiss. Because now that she'd gotten a taste of him, all she wanted was more.

Apparently Daryl was of the same mindset.

Because this kiss became a lot more passionate than their last. There was tongue and moaning and somehow they ended up with her against the wall, with her arms around his neck. Then his hands were under her top, sliding along her skin, and as she felt his fingertips on one hand reach the curve of her breast, his thigh suddenly pressed in between her legs . . . opening them up.

It was when Carol realized that she was starting to rub herself against him in a way that was shameful to do out in the open, that she suddenly pulled away with a gasp of, "wait! Stop!"

And he immediately jumped back .

"I'm sorry," he panted, now looking absolutely horrified, "I'm sorry! I shouldn't of . . ."

But Carol quickly cut him off by pressing a finger to his lips.

"No," she gave him a breathless smile, "no, I just meant we can't do this here. We're in the hallway."

Given how his eyes were already looking a little glazed with desire, it clearly took a second for what she'd said to sink in. But then they suddenly widened as he looked around.

"Oh shit yeah," Daryl huffed as his hand came up to scrub across his mouth . . . he had a bit of spittle there, "it's so quiet I forgot for a second. So um," his teeth sunk into his lower lip as he looked down at the pretty pink in Carol's cheeks, and the way her skin was peeking out from where her shirt was crumpled up around her waist. And God, that had felt good to touch her that way!

Now he just had to pray she'd felt as good GETTIN' touched that way!

"So uh," he blinked and looked down, trying to get his head on straight for a second, "did you wanna, um," he made a half gesture down the hall, "come over to my room or um . . .?"

And he kind of trailed off, because he wasn't sure what to say there for another option, mostly because he didn't want to PUT another option in her brain! Which was why, even though he was almost positive what her answer was going to be, he couldn't deny the relief he felt when Carol immediately nodded her head.

"Yep," she reached out to touch his chest, "absolutely. I just need to," and she tipped her head back down the hall, "leave Sophia a note in case she wakes up." Her eyes crinkled slightly, "I don't want her to get scared, you know?"

"Right," he nodded, "yeah, course. And um," his brow wrinkled a bit then, "I guess just so we're on that uh, same page thing you said." He tipped his head, "you do wanna be my girl, right? Because I wanted to get you back like before, and I ain't gonna pretend like it won't be real nice to have sex, but mostly just what I wanted was," he swallowed, "you. I just want you to be around all the time."

Christ, it was hard as shit trying to talk about this stuff, mostly 'cuz he'd never had to DO it before! All the women he'd been with in the past, they mostly were just him getting together with some chick to screw. There might have been a couple along the way who were sort of sweet, but nobody who had ever really made him feel anything special. Not like Carol. Being away from her this week had been horrible, because when he was near her he felt happy, and basically everything else just made him feel like dyin'. So with him leaving her when he had, he'd ended up with almost a whole week of living in a world of shit even before Merle got dumped in the city. _That_ though, was what had made it so clear to him that he couldn't go back to being a miserable son of a bitch all by himself.

He needed her just to get by.

And if her shit husband hadn't gotten killed by those walkers when he had, Daryl would have done something to him anyway. 'Cuz the days of standing by and letting people he cared about get kicked around, those were done for good. It was the only way he was gonna live with himself. Because he'd been BLESSED to find someone like Carol, a person who gave him a reason to want to keep gettin' up every day. Out here at the end of everything, and he got something amazing.

Because _she_ was amazing.

And besides him just falling so hard for her, and getting so attached, pairin' off official was the smart thing to do. Because with Carol and her girl understood to be his, and sharing his space, he could do a lot better job of looking after 'em. Also, he'd have a woman to lay down with each night. He took a breath.

That would be something new.

Feeling a sob starting to rise in her chest at Daryl's declaration, Carol had to bring her hand up to cover her mouth.

"Thank you for saying that so clear," she choked back while giving him a bright, watery, smile, "because it's just what I want too. So yeah," she reached over to press her hand to his chest, right over his heart, "I'll be your girl. But," and then she sobered slightly, "you do remember you get the two of us, right? You're ready for that?"

It was one thing to work out what they wanted just for themselves, it was another thing when them being together kind of made an instant family for Daryl. That was why she was so relieved with how clearly he'd stated that he wanted her to be with him all the time. It meant that he was more likely to be ready to commit to taking care of her daughter too. And she could see in how his expression was softening as he reached out to touch her cheek that it seemed like he _had_ already given Sophia some thought.

"I know you're a package deal, Carol," he answered then with a stroke of his thumb along her jaw, "and to be honest I don't have much background with kids, but," he nodded seriously, "I seen you raised up a nice girl, and I promise I'll be good to her, and do the best I can to keep her safe, just the same as I will you."

"Well," Carol's mouth twisted in a sad smile, "you promising that, is already more than her daddy ever did for her, so," she nodded, "thank you. And I guess that means we're officially um, well," her nose wrinkled, "I don't know what we'd call it these days, but whatever it is," her eyes crinkled, "that's what we are. So, uh," she let out a slow breath as she started to back up, "I'll go write that note, and then," her eyes crinkled, "I'll come find you."

"Okay then," Daryl answered with a nod and a flash of a full grin, which was something she'd never seen on him before . . . he looked adorable. "I'm down there on the left," he continued on with a jerk his thumb over his shoulder, "right at the end. Just come on down when you're ready."

"Yeah," she bit her lip, "I just need a couple minutes."

"All right," he answered with a serious nod, "but I'll wait no matter how long you'll be."

His words brought a light flush to her cheeks. And though she wanted to say something to him about that, just how nice he made her feel, she was afraid that she'd end up sounding foolish somehow. So instead of speaking again, she just gave him a little smile as she brought her hand up in a half wave.

Then she turned and started to hurry back down the hall.

It was just before she reached her room, that she heard Daryl call out softly.

"You know I just realized I don't have any condoms."

And she spun around on her heel, to see that he was chewing on his lip as he walked closer. It was clear that condom point was really bothering him. So her brow wrinkled as she looked down for a second, before she looked back up and shrugged.

"It's already the end of the world," she said with a soft smile, "so I don't think the disease stuff matters much anymore."

Daryl's eyes widened then as he stopped short a few feet in front of her.

"Oh no," he shook his head, "I don't have nothing like that. I mean," he rolled his eyes, "I don't have nothing period. I was just thinking of," and he gestured towards her midsection, "babies. I mean if it happens," he tipped his head to the side, "I don't think I'd freak out too much. Well," his nose wrinkled, "maybe a little though. So guess you should know that now, but," he shook his head, "I wouldn't leave you, or do nothing else shitty like that." Then he paused for a second before he kind of a laughed a bit and looked around to the walls of their concrete bunker.

"But hell," he snorted, "where would I even go if I _tried_ to leave?!"

Carol grinned up at him.

"That's a good point," she chuckled, "you are literally trapped here with me!"

Then she stepped forward and leaned up on her tiptoes, to give him a quick kiss. And when she stepped back, she brought both of her hands up to cup his jaw. Her lip quirked up.

"Thank you for being honest though." She continued on in a whisper, "and to be honest myself," her eyes crinkled, "I'd probably freak out a little too, but now that we've talked about it as a possibility, I think it's less scary. So I'll say a prayer and you cross your fingers, and if it happens," she shrugged, "it happens."

All those years with Ed, she had actually gotten pregnant three times before Sophia. But those other babies she'd lost in the first few months because Ed had literally beat them out of her. When he'd found out she was expecting (it was only the first time she was stupid enough to share that news voluntarily) he'd punched her repeatedly in the gut while she screamed and screamed, and then finally started to bleed.

That was his sick version of birth control.

Oddly enough though, she never seemed to have any permanent damage down there from those hits, because she continued to get pregnant pretty easily. It was when she'd had another missed period just after Sophia's first birthday . . . Sophia was the one baby she'd hid from him long enough for it to survive through that first crucial trimester , then he just let it go . . . that she went to the free clinic to read the pamphlets, and then three days later she'd had the abortion. After that she went back to that clinic faithfully, just to get birth control pills. She'd hated having the abortion and she'd hated taking those pills, but there had been no real choice in either of those situations. Because it wasn't until after her daughter was born, and Ed had started to share those beatings with her too, that Carol had realized how unbelievably selfish and cruel she'd been bringing a baby into that house. So she'd just been terrified of bringing another child into the world to suffer the same way. But all along, she'd still had normal checkups even after Sophia had started to grow up, so Carol had no reason to think she was any less fertile now than she had been before. Yes, she was a little older, but still a good five years out from menopause, so babies were very much on the table.

So to speak.

And she could tell from Daryl's slow nod that he seemed to be good now that they'd had the talk. Though she was glad that he'd thought to mention it here, before they got to a more awkward point in the evening.

One where they likely would have had to stop something so they could walk it through.

With that handled though, she reached out and gave his bare chest a quick pat as she whispered, "three minutes," then she turned and hurried down the last few feet to her room.

She grabbed the doorknob.

Once she was inside and had the door closed and locked . . . locking doors had become an ingrained habit once dead people had started getting up and walking around . . . for a moment she just stood there in the small pool of light being thrown from the desk lamp she'd been reading by earlier. Because now that she was alone again, her heart was starting to race almost as fast as her brain was.

She just couldn't believe that she was about to go have SEX with Daryl!

It had been thirteen years since she'd been with any man besides Ed, and it had been about two months since she'd even been with him. God that was a blessing though, because for most of their marriage sex had been . . . she bit her lip . . . difficult, to say the least. Because her husband had stopped being charming shortly after their honeymoon. That was their big weekend at the Holiday Inn in Savannah. After they got home, and he realized that she'd spent seven (unapproved) dollars on a tiny memento snow globe . . . one to remember their trip . . . well, that was the first time he hit her. And as the beatings increased and the post-beating apologies _decreased_ , sex very quickly started to became a chore that she simply endured. Every couple days, he'd tell her to strip and get on her back. Then he'd climb on top of her, grunt like a pig, and five to nine minutes later (depending on how many beers he had) he'd roll away.

All she'd got out of those nights were empty minutes staring up at the ceiling tiles.

Once he was done though and had passed out, she'd get up and go take her vibrator out from where it was hidden in the back of the spare room closet, under her winter clothes. Then she'd finish herself off in the bathroom. Still, those nights were at least tolerable memories to look back on, compared to the years after Sophia was born.

That's when everything about Ed had started to become cruel.

It sounded so dumb, but she honestly blamed the Internet. Because it wasn't long after they got it in the house, and he discovered all of that filthy porn, like the worst stuff a person could imagine seeing done to women, that's when he found a new way to get off. At first it was just hours and hours he'd spend in his den masturbating like an animal. Then the next day she'd have to clean it all up. The whole thing had made her gag, but again, in hindsight, she wished that was the life that had continued. Because eventually the masturbating stopped being enough for him and he'd wanted to have sex again. But rather than the old 'climb on, roll off' way, he'd decided to start _experimenting_ with some of those things he saw on the computer.

That was when their sex life had stopped being just pathetic and perfunctory.

The act began to take longer . . . and within a year of him discovering those sites . . . things started to get really rough. And not rough in any kind of good way. Because as with everything else in their life, by then . . . around the time Sophia started school . . . Ed had begun to only enjoy himself if his wife was miserable, or in pain. So mostly he would get off by making her do things that hurt, and/or had shamed her so badly at the time, that she felt sick even thinking back on them now.

Not that she _wanted_ to think back on those horrible nights! But it was hard to separate those events from her memories, when those events WERE basically her whole sex life for the last ten years!

Still, as she took a deep breath and let it out, she knew that she was going to ruin this night with Daryl if she couldn't get her life with Ed out of her conscious brain. So she made herself think back further, and remember life before Ed. In her early twenties there had been a couple of boyfriends, and sex with them had been okay. It had been normal at least, and she'd enjoyed it. But high school . . . her eyes crinkled . . . that's where she decided to focus her memories. Because she'd slept with just one boy back then . . . one of those shy ones who had caught her fancy . . . his name was Daniel, and they'd been together for almost two years. Until he went off to college out west and met another nice girl. But when they'd been together, he'd been sweet and gentle with her. Of course they'd been so young, and _so_ inexperienced, but even with their first nights of awkward fumblings, he'd always been very careful not to do anything to hurt her. So she made herself remember those nights with him, out in the woods, curled up in the backseat of his old Dodge staring over his shoulder at the drops of condensation sliding down the window. And after a few minutes living there in the past of a naive young girl with ginger curls, and a sweet young boy with shaggy blonde hair, she finally let out her breath . . . and smiled. Really smiled.

Because she was better.

All she'd needed was the reminder that Ed had NOT been her whole life. Once she'd had more. Once she'd been happy. She'd had someone who showed her love and kindness . . . and respect. And now she would have those things again. Unfortunately it had taken the world ending to get there, but . . . she huffed drily . . . at least she got there before her own clock ran out.

Speaking of clocks though, when her eyes snapped over to the one on the wall, she realized that a good five or six minutes had already passed since she'd left Daryl out in the hallway. She winced.

Damn it.

Worse still, when she looked down and was reminded of what she was currently _wearing_ , she felt a kick in her gut. Because she was dressed like an ugly, _old,_ frump. The kind that no man would ever look twice at, let alone ever want to have sex with.

The thought of going over to Daryl's room looking the way she did now, was making her feel so uncomfortable that her confidence was fading by the second. And after a quick, and quiet, dig through her bag, she'd confirmed for herself that she had literally nothing else in there that was less sad and matronly than what she was currently wearing. But then as she stood there by her open bag, anxiously wringing her hands, suddenly she took note of the small dresser in the corner of the room.

It hadn't even occurred to her to look in it before, because Rick had told them not to unpack yet so the dresser was just another piece of furniture. But now . . . she started to walk over . . . if she could catch a break, it might be just what she needed. Because these rooms had been occupied before, that was obvious from the random personal things lying around. It wasn't until after she'd started to quietly rifle through the drawers though, that Carol found out her room had once been occupied by a man.

That was a point made clear from the first drawer full of boxer shorts.

But she was also pretty sure that man had very likely been a soldier. And she was making that presumption, because there was another whole drawer full of just t-shirts, and about a half dozen of those were from different Army posts around the country. And she knew the soldier was a man for sure then, because the sizes on those shirts were all XXL, which would have likely been entirely too big for the type of trim, physically fit woman that would be in the military these days.

Which was what made those t-shirts kind of perfect for her purposes now.

Because after she'd quickly stripped off the old lady pajamas, and pulled on one of the baggy grey t-shirts instead, (it said Fort Carson across the back and had a gold star on the front) not only did she start to look MUCH sexier . . . the shirt hung completely off one shoulder, and came down skirting about two inches above her knees . . . she actually _felt_ a little bit sexy as well. And she could honestly say that she hadn't felt ANY kind of 'sexy,' in more years than she even wanted to remember.

It was amazing what a difference a simple piece of cloth could make to one's self esteem.

And after she was changed, she slipped off her clean panties that she'd just put on after her shower, and tucked them back into her bag. That felt SO naughty, but at the same time it was exhilarating too. Again, just stripping off those other clothes . . . the clothes of the Old Carol . . . was giving her more confidence in herself. And luckily she'd already shaved (and shaped) everything that had needed to be shaved and shaped, when she'd taken her long, hot shower. So the next thing she did was go into the bathroom and brush her teeth again. After that she pinched her cheeks to give them some color, and scraped her teeth along her lips to give them a bit of fullness.

The last thing she did was wet her hair enough so that she could spike it up.

It was strange, but by the time she was done 'primping,' when she looked in the mirror, for the first time since probably before she and Ed were married . . . when Carol was twenty-six . . . she saw her real self staring back at her. Yes, her hair might still have been a lot more silver than back then, but her face was young, and her breasts were high under that heavy cotton. And down below, she knew that her thighs were slim and firm, and her stomach was flat. Her eyes even had a sparkle in them.

That was anticipation.

And so she pushed aside that little voice in her head, the one she'd been living with for SO long, reminding her how her flat stomach had a decent smattering of pregnancy stretch marks on it, and how those firm thighs also showed two little dimples of fat on the sides when she sat down.

Ed had pointed those out to her many, _many_ times over the years.

When she pulled up the edge of the grey cotton though, and stared at those faint, silvery lines on her stomach, and the barely perceptible divots on her outer thighs, she reminded herself that Daryl would never be cruel to her about those imperfections, not like Ed had been. And really . . . she took a breath . . . this was just what grown women looked like.

At least the ones that didn't come airbrushed in a magazine.

Again that reminder was enough to get her head on straight, so she took a few quick breaths to quell her butterflies before she walked out of the bathroom to go write the note for Sophia. It was just a few lines. She just told her that she'd stepped out for a few minutes, but that she'd be back soon, and not to worry. Then she signed it, ' _love you to pieces, baby,_ ' with an X and an O, and a smiley face. Once she'd laid that out on top of her pillow where her daughter had no chance of missing it if she woke up, Carol leaned over to pick up the frumpy robe from the end of the bed/couch. It was as she about to pull it on, when she realized that if she did that, she'd be defeating the whole purpose of changing her clothes.

She'd still be showing up looking like an old maid.

So again, even though it felt really naughty, she dropped the robe and decided to just go out as she was. Barefoot, no bra, no panties, and a shirt that just barely covered over her mid-section and lady parts, that was about it.

It was as close to a 'seductive' look as one could get in the apocalypse.

Either way, after she'd blown the sleeping Sophia a kiss, and started towards the door, she knew that at least Daryl would be happy with how she looked. Really, she thought with a huff to herself, he'd already been feeling her up in the hallway when she'd looked like hell, so this was going to be a fun surprise for him.

Hopefully anyway.

It was the thought that sustained her while she poked her head out the door to make sure the hallway was clear . . . God knew she'd be mortified if she ran into anyone else . . . before she finally stepped out and quietly pulled that door shut behind her. Then almost on her tiptoes, she scurried down the hall to what she knew was Daryl's room. And after she'd taken a deep breath to not only steel her courage, but pop out her breasts a little, she brought her fist up, and made one quick, whisper soft, rap on his door.

She only had to wait for a second before it was whipped back and he was standing there in front of her.

God did he look good! Because even though he still had his pants on (she was actually happy for that) now he had his shirt off and she could see all of his muscles and tattoos. Also, she could smell the puff of mint when he exhaled a soft, "hey there."

That's when she realized that he'd gone and brushed his teeth too.

For some reason she found that to be really sweet that he'd also tried to clean up for her. Then his eyes crinkled as stepped back and put his arm out. The invitation to step in was clear, so she did. She stepped in. But not knowing what exactly to do once she _got_ in, she continued over to the center of the room and turned around to watch while Daryl set the lock on his door.

Again, that was what they did now.

"Did you leave the note for your girl?" He asked, half over his shoulder. And she gave him a small nod.

"Yeah," she answered as he turned around, "just in case. But she really should sleep through."

Two beats passed then where they just stared at each other. Then he bit down on his lip.

"You look real nice in that t-shirt."

His words came out as just a whisper. And feeling a touch of heat kiss her cheeks, she gave him a shy smile back.

"Thank you." She murmured with a tug in the hem, "I thought it was better than the old lady pajamas."

The corner of his mouth quivered a bit at that, but if he had something else to say, he kept it to himself. Then she saw him take a deep breath, right before he began to walk towards her. And though she so badly wanted to be there, and she truly had no fears at all about being with Daryl, for some reason she suddenly flashed on another memory of Ed. It was a bad one.

And so she found herself taking a half a step back.

It was a move that didn't escape Daryl's attention, because he stopped short.

He was standing about three feet away.

"What's wrong?" he whispered.

Feeling hot, embarrassed, tears flood her eyes at the question, Carol had to look down to the floor before she answered.

"It's stupid," she sniffed, "but I just got nervous for a second." Her watery eyes snapped up to his. "I suddenly remembered something Ed had done once. Sex with him was, uh," she swallowed, "well, he did some bad things and they'd been running through my mind earlier, that's why I was a little late. But I thought I'd pushed them all out of my head, but," she gave him a sad smile, "apparently there are still a few wisps in there."

Seeing that Daryl's jaw had clenched and eyes had flashed almost black when she said Ed had done bad things to her, she knew that he understood exactly what she was referring to. But as quickly as his anger flared up, somehow he seemed to push it down again. Almost like he was afraid maybe it would scare her. And who knew . . . maybe it would have.

Either way, after his eyes had dropped to the floor for a moment, when they shifted back up to hers, she could there was this really sad look on his face.

"I'm so sorry that he did that to you," he whispered, "but I promise, nothing like that's gonna happen to you again. Never with me, and I won't let anyone else ever touch you either. Not if I got a breath in me. And when we are together, if you need to stop, or something don't feel right, you just tell me and we'll stop." His eyes started to water, "because I don't want you hurtin', and I don't want you ever feeling like you gotta do something you don't want to do. It ain't gonna be like that with us, okay?"

"Yeah," she choked out on a sob, "okay. And thank you for saying all that," she sniffled even as she was bringing her hand up to wipe her tears away, "because I didn't realize until you did," she gave him a sad smile, "that I guess maybe it was something my brain needed to hear out loud."

After all those years with Ed deciding when she was having sex even when she didn't want it, and making her do all those terrible things that had made her cry, now she had a man telling her that he'd keep her safe from all the other bad men out there, and not only that, but that he respected how she had the right to stop things even after they'd already started. A tear slipped down her cheek.

Ed had never stopped even when she'd started to bleed.

So after she'd wiped her cheek again, she took a deep breath . . . and looked Daryl directly in the eyes.

"How about we start with a hug?"

His lip quirked up.

"Sure."

And somehow sensing that she would need to initiate that hug, just so Daryl would know that she really _was_ okay, and not going to somehow freak out in the middle of them having sex . . . please GOD don't let her do that(!) . . . Carol walked over to where he'd stopped short a moment before.

For a second he only looked at her, and then he reached out, and with just his thumb, gently brushed the remaining tears from her face.

Her eyes fell shut.

And the next thing she knew, she felt his fingertips lightly tracing a path along her wrist, right before he slipped his arm around her shoulders . . . and pulled her over to his chest. Then he just held her. He had that one arm around her shoulders, and then one around her waist as he'd tipped his head down to cuddle her in close. It took only a moment before she started to really feel safe for probably the first time in she didn't even know how long. That's when she took a deep breath and tried to commit his smell to memory (right now it was an earthy, clean, musk), and then there was the texture of his muscles (hard and smooth), and the feel of his skin beneath her cheek. That was warm.

Very, very warm.

Part of her probably could have been happy if nothing else happened that night than just getting to feel him that way. Because again, even after all their weeks together, the only time they'd touched had been the day of the fire, and then later that day he left. All she got from him the second time was just a little stroke of her thumb along his palm.

This was INFINITELY better!

Still, she knew that better was a term relative to what she'd experienced so far. Which was why she didn't want to finish tonight with just the hug . . . she wanted all of him. And with him being so good and patient with her, again, she knew that she should be the one to push them to the next step. Unlike earlier in the night . . . her eyes crinkled . . . she wasn't afraid to go first anymore. So she turned her head slightly and pressed a little kiss on his chest, and then another one a little bit higher.

And then one more right on the curve of his neck.

After that one, she tipped her head back to see him looking down at her again.

"You know we don't have to if you ain't ready yet. We can wait until tomorrow or the next day, if you need to go slow."

His words were just a whisper as he brought his hand up to cup her cheek. And not wanting him to worry that she was pushing herself to do something she didn't want to do only for his sake . . . because she really wasn't, this was what SHE wanted . . . she gave him a bright smile and a sharp shake of her head.

"I don't need to go that slow. I'm sure I'm ready. Thank you for asking though," her eyes crinkled, "I appreciate it more than you can know."

"Course," he murmured a little dismissively, like he thought it was silly for her to thank him for that. Then he tipped his head down to give her a kiss.

It wasn't a passionate one, it was just sweet. And when he pulled away, she could see a little smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"So how about to start I just do something for you?"

If things for Carol had been as bad with Ed as he was afraid they'd been, then it'd probably been a real long time since she'd had sex that actually made her feel happy. That was something he wanted to fix. And he could tell from the little blush that touched her cheeks as her eyes crinkled again, that she knew what he was saying.

Then she gave him a nod.

"I'd like that," she whispered, as the color in her face darkened a bit, "I've missed it."

It was like she was embarrassed to admit what she wanted him to do to her. That was something else he was gonna fix. They were going to have good sex, and he wasn't going to have her feeling any kind of bad, about any of it. So while he distracted her with another kiss, he let his hands fall down to catch the edges of her shirt.

When he started to push it up, and he felt the backs of his fingers brushing right over her curls, that's when he discovered she'd come over without any panties on. His eyes crinkled.

Good girl.

At least she was trying to have fun.

And it made step one here even easier, so he just moved one hand down off her hip, to slide along into her nest, and then that warm soft space beyond. And when he started to gently stroke two of his fingers there just to get her wet, he also started sucking on her tongue as he slowly backed her up and over against the door.

That was the point where he had to take the other hand off her hip just to get his own pants undone. Not that he was anywhere close to finished yet with what he had planned for Carol by herself, it was just that having a dick now popping up and scraping directly against the teeth of his zipper, was as uncomfortable as shit! So while he kept working her button there, to get her to the point where he could make her squeal, he got his pants loosened up. Not that he got his dick out, because that wasn't where he was going yet, but he just got his zipper opened up enough that it wasn't distracting. That's when he finally broke the kiss, and gave Carol a wink, right before he dropped to his knees, ducked his head under the shirt, and spread her legs open.

That's when he went to town.

Carol gasped at the feel of Daryl's tongue swirling over her clit. It was the first time she'd had someone go down on her since the last man she'd dated before Ed. He had been enthusiastic, but not very experienced. Daryl on the other hand was not only enthusiastic, but clearly experienced too!

Thank GOD for that!

Because with him down on his knees, and her sweaty palms pressed flat against the door, and it was only a moment before she felt him absolutely DEVOURING her! Truly, he had two fingers up inside and caressing that one _perfect_ spot, and his lips and tongue teeth were working all around on her clitoris where he was sucking and licking, and blowing little puffs of air. Her hips started to rock as her eyes snapped shut.

"OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD! OH GOD!"

Over and over she panted and gasped, feeling that pressure building inside her until finally she snapped. All she had was a second to yank her arm up and bite down on her fist as she came hard against Daryl's face with what she could feel was an actual spurt. THAT had not happened in forever!

That was also when she started to slide down the door.

Her legs had just gone to jelly.

But then Daryl was catching her with one arm under her thighs, as he scooped her up and into his arms.

He pulled her to his chest with a faint huff.

"Y'all right?" he whispered with a sticky, wet, kiss to her lips . . . she could taste herself all over him.

"Yep," she hummed happily with her eyes half shut, as she felt his erection pressing into her back, "but I don't think I can stand up anymore."

Hearing him let out a snort as he murmured, "good, that's what we were going for," he hoisted her up a little higher before he turned to walk them over to the open couch.

Just like in her room there were fresh sheets on the mattress.

That's where he leaned over to gently place her down in the middle, and after he'd wiped the back of his hand across his mouth, she heard him quietly cursing when he started to work his pants down over his VERY large erection. She couldn't help the giggle that slipped out.

"Want me to help?" She asked with a smile, while pushing herself up to reach forward, but he just scowled a bit and took a half step back.

"Naw," he grunted with his eyes still locked down onto the issue at hand . . . not pinching anything vital in the teeth of that zipper, "you start moving your hands around in here and fun's going to end way quicker than we want it to."

Immediately seeing his point, she let out another little chuckle, and a "good point." So instead she moved on to getting her t-shirt off. It was as she was tossing it over to the other couch across the room, that she heard Daryl let out another grunt.

That one sounded triumphant.

Sure enough, when she looked back up at him, she could now see his full length there popping out. Her eyes widened with both surprise, and excitement.

Because that was SO much bigger and thicker than Ed's!

Still, she waited until he'd gotten his pants off completely, and was tossing them over with her t-shirt, before she commented.

She did it with a smile.

"Just go in slow, okay?"

When he looked back and gave her a serious nod, and whispered, "of course," she opened her arms.

"Come on then," she said with a soft smile, "I'm ready."

That was all the encouragement Daryl needed.

Because then his knee was on the couch and his body was moving down to cover over hers. His mouth was capturing hers in another wet (though much less sticky) kiss, while his hands went right to her hips. That's when she felt that thick head pushing against her inner thigh. So with him sliding his hands around to her backside, and then shifting one of the pillows underneath her, the two of them lifted her hips up to get the deepest angle they could. Then he was pushing in, going so slowly as he filled her, going deeper and deeper until finally he was pressing into her on the inside. And inside was where everything was already so sensitive from before.

She let out a squeak . . . and his head snapped back.

"Y'all right?!"

Even though she could tell that she'd startled him, all she could manage was a ragged nod.

"Yeah," she swallowed as a sudden tingle of residual pleasure caused her thighs to try to snap together. Daryl was in between them though, and the movement made him swear out a, "God damn darlin' what are you DOING to me?!"

She started to laugh.

The laughter only lasted a second before Daryl's lips had covered hers again.

Then he began to move.

It was after a few strokes that he finally broke the kiss to dip his head down and begin to suck on one of her nipples instead. Back and forth he went, working each one between his lips and his teeth just like he had been when he was working her down below.

Like it was his _job_ to drive her right to the edge of sanity!

Because while his mouth was busy doing that, and his hands were on her hips, he was riding her with these slow, steady strokes, kind of rotating his pelvis so he was rubbing against everything, every time, just right. And she was lying there, splayed out on her back, clutching the edges of the cushion with her fingertips, with her eyes rolling back in her head as felt that pleasure again building in her core, while those tingles shot out from her breasts.

All she could think was that saying yes to sex with this man had been the BEST decision of her life!

Because all she'd really had her hopes up for, was maybe getting one real orgasm and hopefully a nice cuddle at the end. Here, he'd already made her come more than she had probably in the last three months. And all those other orgasms had been vibrator related.

These ones were SO much better!

And feeling herself about to hit another crest, she quickly brought one hand up to bite down on the back of her fist, because that's what she'd always done when she was alone in the bathroom.

She'd had to stay quiet so Ed wouldn't wake up.

But then suddenly she felt Daryl's right hand slide off her hip, and over in between her legs. He brushed his thumb over that hard little cluster of nerves he'd been sucking on earlier. So despite her best efforts . . . she let out a loud yelp. One that could NOT be muffled by her fist!

Then she felt him lean up to lick that soft spot by her ear.

"You like that?" He panted out against her wet skin, while still moving both his hips, and now his thumb both with that same swirl. And she gave a ragged, breathless, nod.

"Yeeess," she let out on a moan as he continued on with that steady, surprisingly gentle, caress, "God yes, that feels AMAAAZING!"

Her voice caught with a gasp at the end, because that's when she hit the full peak. And she started to literally writhe up on the bed, feeling much like her body wasn't her own, that's when Daryl moved in to nudge her arm away with his chin, so he could capture her lips again. Still, he never stopped moving, even though she could tell from his own moans that he was starting to get close.

Or at least closer than he was.

But it wasn't until she'd ridden that first wave down, that he panted out on half a breath, "you know if there's somethin' special you like, you might have more fun if you tell me what that is, than with me just guessing at things."

"You're such a good guesser though," she let out on a sultry eyed giggle. And he snorted and leaned in to lick first her cheek, and then that spot by her ear again.

Her nails scraped down his back.

"Hmm," he hummed with a wink, "I guess that's one you like, but still, I ain't Kreskin so," he gave a good hard, push as he pulled his head up a little more, "if there's something special you want me to do, just say so. Because you know," he smirked, "no matter what, I'm already having the best God damn day of my life. So even if you want me to finish off here standing on my head, that ain't gonna change that."

Feeling a spark of warmth hit her eyes as that same joyful feeling filled her chest, Carol looked over Daryl's shoulder for a second . . . over to the clock on the wall behind them.

"There is one thing," she whispered hesitantly.

That was enough for his movements to slow for a second.

"Yeah," his eyebrow quirked up as even his thumb stilled, "and what's that?"

"Um," she bit her lip then, feeling a bit of heat touch her face, "do you want to uh," her eyes snapped over to his, "maybe go from behind?"

A huge grin spread across his face.

"You wanna do it DOGGY style?" He asked on a laugh. And she immediately winced as a wave of embarrassment washed over her.

"Never mind," she whispered, while her eyes snapped up and over his shoulder, "we can finish where you are."

Seeing the tears filling Carol's eyes, Daryl froze.

All humor was gone from the moment.

"Oh, hey darlin'," he murmured with a brush his fingers along her cheek, "come on now, I'm sorry. Don't be embarrassed. I wasn't making fun, I promise. You just surprised me, is all."

That really was all it had been, because with her cross and her prayers and all her good manners, she just didn't seem like the type that would be up for that move. But he should've known better that one thing didn't have nothing to do with the other. And now he felt like a complete asshole because she thought he was laughing at her. And when she still wouldn't look at him even after he'd apologized, he brought his hand up from her hip, and gently grasped her jaw.

He turned her head.

When one of those tears spilled over and slid down her face, he shifted back until he was completely out of her, because nothing killed a hard on like seeing the girl you were riding start to cry.

It was like gettin' kicked in the balls.

"I'm sorry I made you feel bad," he whispered with a brush of his thumb along her lower lip. Then he continued on with a sharp shake of his head, "I didn't mean to laugh, really. We can do whatever you want to Carol, anything at all. Except," he shifted back a little more, "the one what we absolutely _can't_ do, is have sex if you're crying." His voice started to thicken, "because it makes me feel like I'm doing something bad to you."

As she heard Daryl's last admission, Carol's watery eyes snapped over to his and popped open wide, because it had NOT occurred to her that he would ever think such a thing! It had never even entered her mind.

So she quickly reached up to touch his cheek.

"You weren't doing anything bad to me," she whispered with a firm shake of her head, "it still felt good. I was just," she winced and let her hand fall away, "so embarrassed. I thought that what I was asking for was really slutty or something and that's why you'd laughed. But," she bit her lip, "I still wasn't taking back my yes. I just figured if I told you to keep going, the embarrassment would have faded off when all the amazing stuff started to take over."

He nodded slowly.

"Okay, I get that. And that makes me feel better. But," he bit his lip, "you can't do that to me again, okay? You can't start crying like that and just tell me to finish up, right before you shut down completely. Because there's _no_ way," he gave her a look, "me seeing that reaction from you, isn't gonna make me think I'm doing something to you that you don't want done."

Carol winced and nodded.

"Yeah I can see that now," she answered with sniffle as she reached up to grasp his jaw with both hands, "but I swear I didn't think of it like that before. What I should have done though was just asked you to stop for a second so we could talk. It's just," she shrugged as another tear slipped over, "all these years I got so used to just going along with things no matter how I was feeling, I forgot what you'd said before about us doing things different."

Seeing Daryl's expression soften, she tugged his head down and gave him a deep, hard, kiss.

And when they finally broke apart, she gave him a watery smile.

"These are happy tears now, and I promise next time if they're not happy tears, I'll remember to speak up for both our sakes."

Daryl's jaw twisted for a second, before he let out a slow, heavy, breath.

"Okay," his eyes crinkled, "then I think we're good."

Then he blinked and the corner of his lip quirked up.

"But I might need to suck on those nipples to get me going again."

She let out chuckle.

"Have at 'em!" she giggled with a little shake of her breasts. And he shot her a quick grin before he dropped his head down to take a lick.

 _It was gonna be a long night!_

* * *

 _A/N 2: Another long, inside Sienna's Writing Brain, Note :)_

 _Smutty sex! Always a challenge to keep stuff fresh when you go 'all in' so that's how they ended up at the door! Ha, ha! And I thought Carol having a specific position she wanted to try again, and totally catching Daryl off guard with the one she wanted to do, was also another new in. Not just for the momentary angst of the misunderstanding, but remember back to season 1 Carol being less assertive with her 'wants' and always tugging on her cross when she was nervous, and you can see his reaction as being like yeah, okay, didn't expect that!_

 _Initially this story was all about Caryl simply as a romance, but as I moved towards the final draft I realized I liked it more (and it had sort of evolved) to be a story about Carol more particularly, with Daryl as the secondary character. Still a very important one :) and he has his moments of internal focus on his thoughts, but this was the first time I'd had the opportunity to write a story coming so directly from the viewpoint of an abused woman. I'm not an expert on this because I have been very fortunate to have not been in her position, so no disrespect with my take to anyone who has had to deal with that kind of terror. But on a much, much lower scale of upset I've had a few not great things happen to me as most people do as life goes on. So I tried to take from my own experiences of low confidence and sexual discomfort and relationship misunderstandings, to then put myself in Carol's place, to see where I thought my mind would go with her background with Ed so fresh. So some of those scenes of her thoughts alone were more stream of consciousness for me of being her in my head and trying to work through how I'd try to handle things to take control of my life again._

 _And to that point, it was a balancing act in some of these scenes to shift them between having the smutty sex, and then dealing with her confidence and abuse issues without it being total whiplash, or just quite frankly, a real downer. Because on my second draft, when I was outlining those sections, I'd read them over like, 'ooh man, now how are we going to get the mood back from THAT?!' But I think you can see in those sex scenes where things get serious and they have to stop for a few minutes, it's partly her issues, but it's also because we're dealing with Daryl's abuse issues. Not that I'm adding in a canon element of him suffering sexual abuse from his father, because we don't have any evidence of that, but just that as an abuse survivor himself, one who probably would have witnessed or at least heard through the wall, his mother suffering some degree of degradation with his father, he would be more sensitive in those areas than someone might otherwise expect. Like him saying you can't start crying and shut down on me and then not have me assume that I'm doing something wrong. He didn't say it in an accusatory way, but to again emphasize, we aren't going to have THAT kind of relationship, because if thought he was hurting her that would be a real hit for him. And again the balancing act of Carol not then falling back into Ed'mode and begging forgiveness for upsetting DARYL, when it wasn't her fault that she reacted that way. So I was deliberate in not having her apologize to him, but instead EMPATHIZE. I wanted her to see her reactions from his side because that would be something else to help her not fall into old patterns. He's not Ed, he doesn't WANT her to suck it up and keep going. He wants her to tell him when something is wrong. And you'll see in the conclusion this is the path they'll keep working to reinforce (in other ways) because clearly Carol can't just tell herself, "okay react to things this way now," and oh, now all my trauma is healed! In other stories I've written with them getting together physically I haven't delved into these issues with more than a passing glance, because Carol always had more distance from Ed. Which was more time to heal on her own, and/or, more time to ease into a physical relationship with Daryl. Here, she and Daryl had the emotional connection before Ed died, so she was, in her heart, ready to move on to a physical component, but in reality obviously they probably should have eased into the physical elements over a couple days rather than all in one. But for me it was more interesting from a writing standpoint to take the fresh approach of her wanting to be with him immediately, even though Daryl twice said, we can put on the brakes if that's you need. I do really like this version of them. Because they have an existing emotional bond, Daryl is already more open with her, and adding in physical intimacy immediately also opens him up even more. If this was just them still no further along than maybe a few hugs, he wouldn't be so verbal. Unfortunately I can't keep playing here with them forever because time is finite :) I did already finish the last chapter though. I just had to cut it because I was getting a headache trying to proof so much. But I now have double shifts through Sunday, so let's say the conclusion will be up, Sunday night/Monday day depending on if I have the energy to read it over before then._

 _So that's all folks, and again, always love to hear what you think! :)_


	3. Our Last, Best, Moments

**Author's Note:** Not a drill this time. We're really wrapping this one up. But please remember my advisories from the last chapter about the sex and 'sensitive issues,' being raised, because they will be very much raised again.

Direct pickup.

* * *

" _There is no real ending. It's just the place where you stop the story."_

 _\- Frank Herbert_

 **Our Last, Best, Moments**

Carol's hands came up to run her fingers through Daryl's hair as he let his tongue trace around the edges of her left nipple . . . it took only a moment of before she could feel both of them pop to attention again. Which not only felt good, but was a relief too, because after that small, 'teary interlude,' she also kind of needed this to get going again. Fortunately Daryl's approach was clearly working just fine for the both of them, because as his hands gripped her hips, and his mouth moved over to her other breast, she could feel his penis rubbing against her thigh. Her eyes crinkled.

Things were popping up down there too.

And feeling that length of him hardening, was a reminder that she hadn't done anything special for him, like he'd been doing for her basically the whole night so far. Which was why she took that moment to reach down and give one of his balls a gentle massage between her thumb and forefinger. Back and forth she stroked.

From the hum that began to vibrate around her nipple, she was assuming the touch felt good.

Then Daryl lifted his head up and smiled, _really_ smiled. He just seemed so happy that it made her ache for him in a way that she hadn't before. If it had been a few weeks down the road, that probably would have been the moment where she told him that she loved him . . . but they weren't quite there yet.

So she just gave him a happy smile in return for the one he'd shared with her.

It was then that he leaned in to give her a kiss, before mumbling against her lips, "if you wanna roll over, I'm ready to go now."

Her eyes widened.

"Really?" She whispered back as a touch of shyness came into her tone again, "you don't think it's too," her nose wrinkled, "slutty?"

This was where her thoughts about her own sexual desires became somewhat muddled. Because Ed _had_ treated her like a whore for most of their marriage. "Cum bucket" had been one of his favorite terms for women in general, and her in particular, which was why Carol was a little worried about her request to have sex in that position, made it sound like she really was what Ed had always said she was.

And she didn't want Daryl to ever think of her like that.

But then she saw his expression soften as he gave her hip a gentle pat and she immediately felt a little more at ease.

"Ain't no such thing as slutty when you're having good sex," he answered her then with a half shrug, "it's all about having fun." His eyebrow quirked up, "and you do think it's goin' to be fun, right?"

"Yeah," she started to smile, though there was still a faint hesitation in her voice, "I do. I did it once like that a long time ago, and I remember how much I liked it."

"All right then," he gave her a small nod of encouragement, "and I've done before and I liked it too, so if that's what you want to try again, then that's what we'll do. _But_ ," he shot her a look, "if it don't feel good like you remember, just give me a smack on the hand and I'll get out of there and we'll go back the other way."

"Right," she nodded seriously, "smack on the hand."

"Okay," he twirled his finger, "then let's go, darlin'."

So after a deep breath and a full heavy, exhale to cover both her nerves and anticipation, because she was really just praying she wasn't going to have to smack his hand because she was remembering everything all wrong, Carol sat up . . . and rolled over. Once she came up to her knees, with her butt up in the air, almost immediately she did start to feel really exposed, and well . . . she took another breath . . . kind of like she used to when Ed made her get on her knees for him.

But then she felt Daryl's hands gently caressing her backside and her thighs, right before he leaned down to press a kiss to her shoulder, and then another one on her lower back.

The breath she was holding came out in a sigh of relief.

Because this was nothing like being on her knees with Ed. That had been horrible and degrading. This here was gentle and loving.

Those had always been the key missing components during her entire awful time with her husband.

And feeling Daryl's fingers sliding up her inner thigh, and moving in and along through her softest flesh again, she had just about gotten herself to totally relax and forget completely about any memories of the bad times with Ed. But then Daryl leaned up to kiss her neck right before he whispered, "just to be a hundred percent, you just want to go from the back, right? I ain't supposed to be using the other door?" and she FREAKED out!

Her head whipped around and that got her balance unsteady enough that she fell back and away from him. Because now she was feeling a sudden, horrific, wave of panic that they might be on the verge of a NIGHTMARISH misunderstanding!

"Oh no!" She hissed with a vehement shake of her head, "no, not the other way!" Her voice faded off as her eyes burned, "that hurts."

Well maybe it didn't hurt for everyone because she did know it was kind of a popular move. For her though, all she'd just had was the fresh sickening flash of memories of Ed pinning her down and her screaming into a pillow. And those memories must have been there all over her face, because Daryl's expression became one of sadness and horror as he reached out to slide his arm around her waist and pull her back, and over to his lap.

She could feel his erection poking into her hip.

"Shh, it's okay, darlin', it's okay," he soothed with a tight hug and a nuzzle of her ear, "that's why I wanted to double check. And if that's something that hurts you," his hand started gently rubbing her belly, "if you got bad memories there, then I'm real glad you told me now, so we don't need to talk about it ever again. Conversation's over."

Feeling a fresh spark of warmth in her eyes, though now it wasn't from sadness over the bad days in her past, but joy that she'd found this man for her future, Carol tipped her head back to his chest and let out that panicked breath she'd been holding. Because he did understand. And he wasn't going to make her say more.

He just knew.

So she reached down to catch the fingers on her stomach.

"Thank you for being a good guy," she whispered while bringing Daryl's hand up to kiss his knuckles. And he let out an amused grunt as he placed his own kiss on her neck.

"I ain't good," he murmured, "I've just known a lot of people who had some real bad times, so I try to be careful, is all."

They were both quiet for another minute with Carol just letting Daryl hold her, before he finally rubbed his cheek on her shoulder.

"So, you feel better now?"

She turned to give him a soft smile.

"Yeah, I'm okay, I just kind of panicked for a second thinking you'd misunderstood what I wanted. But," and she started to shift around in his lap, "if you're still ready, I'm good."

" _Ready_?" Daryl groaned as the back of Carol's thigh rubbed against his dick, "darlin' I ain't got off ONCE yet! I got a case of blue balls like you wouldn't BELIEVE!"

Even though she knew he was serious about those blue balls, because he really _hadn't_ gotten off yet(!), Carol couldn't help the little snort that slipped out at the look on his face.

"I'm sorry, hon," she whispered while leaning over to give him a kiss, "I have had WAY more fun so far than you. So," she started to push herself up on her knees again, "let's get moving here before your poor penis gets broken."

"Hmph," Daryl grunted as he let his hand slide up in between Carol's thighs again, "don't be joking about that, 'cuz neither one of us are gonna be having any more good times if that dude gets broke."

When Carol let out another chuckle at that, his lips twitched, because this was probably the first time he'd had sex with a woman and actually had fun at the same time. Or . . . he started to get up on his own knees . . . more the point, had more than ONE kind of fun.

The main activity they were there for though, that was still the same, and it was time to get on with the show.

So after he'd given Carol's lady parts a couple of nice and slow back and forth strokes with his middle finger . . . one that made her quiver as the moisture covered his palm . . . he put his other hand on her back.

"Lean over all the way now," he murmured, "and probably take a breath too."

"Right," Carol leaned forward so her hands were down flat on the mattress, lined up with her knees . . . her bottom was back up in the air. That time when she felt Daryl's hands moving in behind her and caressing her backside, she felt much less self conscious than last time. Still, he was right about taking that breath.

Breathing right was the only smart way to take in something the size she was about to take in again.

That's when Daryl's hands slid up to her hips and then he was shifting them both into the right position, as he slipped one arm around her waist, and started to push into her from behind.

The sensation of him filling her again was enough all by itself for her to let out moan . . . one that went right along with his groan. But then he pushed the rest of the way, and he hit that spot. For a second her muscles got so wobbly that she fell forward over his arm, almost like a rag doll. Because God it was PERFECT! Just like she remembered from so far back! So when he started to move, she felt more emboldened.

She pushed back into him, hard.

That's when she felt a hot lick in her ear.

"Guess you do like it this way," Daryl hummed just before he let his hand slide down from her stomach, and back between her legs.

It only took a few moments before they were moving in a perfect rhythm, back and forth. But also with him having one hand caressing her breasts, while the other was down there in her warmth working her into a frenzy. And God every single stroke they took had him hitting her RIGHT in the sweet spot!

It didn't take long after the panting started, for things to begin to get a lot dirtier though.

Not bad dirty, nothing like her life with Ed, but sex on all fours was pretty primal, and as the pressure built, she felt more wanton. Base urges were coming up and out of not only her, but Daryl too. They both started thrusting harder and harder as she heard the sounds of skin slapping, and him swearing like a sailor in her ear.

It felt kind of like they were rutting like animals.

Which didn't sound very romantic, but it FELT unbelievable! And then Daryl's teeth were scraping along the back of her neck, and when he bit down, she let out another moan. It wasn't even a new level of pleasure, it was just ecstasy. Pure ecstasy. And it was building . . . and building . . . and then suddenly she was coming so hard that she had no time to prepare herself for it. She literally let out a shriek. And then another.

And then.

"OH DARYL! OH DARYL! OH DARYL! OH DARYL! OH DARYL!"

Over and over, she was actually sobbing his name, but there was no pain. It was all pleasure. Like all the wires had gotten mixed together. And with her screaming for him like that, Daryl himself ended up letting out a real, genuine, growl and it was so hot hearing that, and knowing it was because of her, that she felt herself buck into him again. And again.

She was still crying for him.

"That's it darlin'," he hissed in her ear as he pounded over and over against her flesh with that perfectly angled thrust of his hips, "that's it! You let it GO!"

And she did, she let go in a way that she never had before. Like all those years of her whimpered orgasms in the bathroom with her little battery operated friend, had been nothing.

This was the real thing.

Everything that had been pent up in her was being released. Even after she started to come back to herself a little, for a few seconds she tried to stay quiet just so the others wouldn't hear. But it was too hard to do that again. And as she felt Daryl licking the sweat off her neck, suddenly she no longer cared much if anyone else did know they were having sex.

 _Fuck 'em._

The phrase popped into her head, and even though she didn't usually swear much, she heard the thought clear as day. Of course the thought was in Daryl's voice though . . . because he was the one who had set her free. So she figured she might as well listen to him on that point too. Which was when she decided to just let herself make all the noise she needed to make.

It was EXHILARATING!

In fact, she came two more times with a scream, with all kinds of mewling and moans, and little squeals in between. And she was still riding a wave when she finally heard Daryl's sharp gasp in her ear. That was right before his movements started to get shaky and he quickly readjusted his grasp on her to move both of his hands back to her hips. Then his fingertips were clenching almost painfully into her skin and that wonderful warmth began to fill her.

Then it began to spill over and trickle onto her thighs.

Because it took one . . . two . . . three more, final strokes while he cursed up a storm at the top of his lungs, before he was done. Still, she'd been MUCH louder coming than he'd been. But with him spent, and her basically just a puddle of quivering mass herself . . . her arms were literally shaking . . . they both collapsed down onto the rumpled sheet. She was pinned beneath him.

And his breath was so hot and wet in her ear.

"That was the best idea anyone's ever had," he panted breathlessly against her skin, "thank you." And Carol was feeling so blissfully happy and content then, that she found herself letting out a giggle as she reached over her shoulder to pat his cheek.

"Well, it might have been my idea," she huffed, "but you did about eighty percent of the work on that one, so I think we deserve at least equal credit for the outcome."

Daryl's eyes crinkled slightly at Carol's words, right before he tucked his head down to her shoulder, and rolled them both to the side so he wouldn't crush her.

"I'm gonna still stick with the thanks," he mumbled with a gentle kiss to soothe over the ugly red mark he'd left on her neck, "because that was hands down, the best damn screw I've ever had in my life. So yeah," he let out a heavy sigh as he dropped his head back to nuzzle her shoulder, "that was all you."

Not knowing what to say to that, Carol just gave his arm a rub from where it was wrapped around her waist. Then it took another minute or so from there, before her heart stopped racing and they'd both completely caught their breath again. That's when she felt Daryl's other hand move up from where it was resting on her stomach, to catch her fingers.

"You could stay for a bit," he whispered in her ear, "I mean," he sniffed, "I know you can't stay all night, but if you want, we could go again in a little while. I just need to rest for maybe ten minutes or so."

Carol's eyes crinkled.

"Ten minutes," she repeated back with an amused huff, "do you really think that's _all_ you'll need for another performance like that one?"

"Hmm, all right," he hummed with gentle stroke of his thumb along her wrist, "point taken. So let's say twenty minutes to rest up. But I'm sure it won't be no more than that. So," he picked his head up so he could lean around and catch her eyes again.

"Would you stay another twenty minutes, if we could have another thirty or forty minutes of fun?"

She blinked and swallowed.

"Okay," she whispered with a faint crinkle of her eyes, "I'll stay. I will have to leave right after that though, because otherwise I might fall asleep, and," she shook her head, "I can't leave Sophia."

"Yeah," he quickly nodded his head in agreement, "I know. And I promise I won't let us fall asleep. So," he let out a breath, "if you want to settle back and rest a minute, I'll watch the clock."

For a second Carol just stared into Daryl's eyes from where he was leaning over her shoulder.

"Can we switch around?" she whispered, "I mean, if it's okay, I'd like to uh," a soft smile touched her lips, "cuddle?"

Now she was fully aware that actually using the C word might put Daryl off a little bit, even though he had been nothing but affectionate since their first kiss in the hallway. Rather than seeming uncomfortable at her request though, he just looked a little confused. And she watched as his brow wrinkled a bit before he tipped his head further to the side.

"But ain't that what we're doing?" He whispered back, "I mean," he patted her stomach, "ain't that what this is?"

And it was the strangest thing, but Carol felt her eyes start to burn seeing that look on his face. There was an innocence there that was so sweet, and just completely went contrary to everything else she knew about him. So she gave him a quick, soft smile, before he got the impression he was doing something wrong.

Or even worse that he wasn't doing something _right_!

Just because their positions were shifted from the traditional, didn't mean the cuddling intent wasn't still there. So she answered with a self deprecating huff.

"Yes," she nodded, "you're absolutely right, that is exactly what we're doing. I just meant that I wanted to," she brought her finger up and spun it around, "roll over the other way, so I could um," then her cheeks started to get a little warm, "feel your chest." Then she gave him a shy grin. "It's a nice chest, you know?"

Seeing how Daryl's lips twitched at that right before he let out a snort, Carol knew how much her answer had amused him. So without another word, he shifted them around so that rather than back to front, they were now front to front, cuddled together in the center of that medium sized mattress.

The one good thing about doing it doggy style, they didn't have a huge, sweaty, wet spot to deal with on the sheets. There were just a few damp spots here and there. So once she got herself settled, with her legs tangled with his, and her lady parts very nicely rubbing against his hip, she rested her head on his chest, and let out a happy sigh. He leaned down to kiss her cheek.

"Better?" He murmured, while he wrapped her up tight in those thick, muscular, arms of his. She nodded.

"Yes, thank you."

All she'd wanted was for him to hold her like this so she could feel safe and warm. Also again, this way she could finally get a good feel of that wonderful chest she'd just gotten permission to touch whenever she wanted. Her lip quirked up.

And now this way Daryl could feel more of her too.

For instance, right now, one of his hands had just started to lightly rub her backside. It felt really nice, and it wasn't even that he was touching her in a sexual way like before when he was relaxing her muscles. This was simply . . . affectionate. And after a moment he let out a heavy sigh as he murmured with a light pat to her left cheek, "your skin's so soft everywhere. How is that?"

She huffed a bit.

"Well, the skin you're touching right now has never had even a drop of sunlight hit it, so I'm guessing why that's so smooth. The rest of me," she started to tap her fingers on his chest, "I actually just used a lot of kitchen stuff. It might sound silly but," she shrugged, "Ed didn't want me wasting money on creams or lotions so I made body scrubs out of water with sugar or salt, and washed my face with apple cider vinegar, because I could get a big jug of it really cheap and Ed thought I was just using it for cooking or house cleaning."

"Hmm," he hummed back then with another light caress of her bottom, "that's funny you say that, 'cuz I think my momma used to wash up with the apple cider vinegar. I'd forgotten about that until just now," his voice faded off, "but she had a real pretty face too."

The way Daryl's tone softened almost wistfully when he spoke of his mother, Carol had a feeling that he'd loved her a lot, and that she'd also died a long time ago. This probably wasn't the moment though to poke around into that soft spot. For one thing, she was pretty sure it wasn't a topic he would be looking to discuss at all. Also, if they did somehow did end up going down that path, the odds of them having sex again directly after a _dead mother_ conversation, were probably pretty low.

So instead of doing anything to make him uncomfortable, or temporarily impotent, she just rubbed a little circle on his chest with her fingertips, until finally she felt him take a breath. Then he tipped his head down and pressed his lips to her ear.

"Your whole body feels like silk," he murmured with a nuzzle and a kiss to her cheek. And that was just the sweetest, most unfiltered compliment, that it actually made her eyes sting. Because Daryl didn't say things like other men did. There was nothing false about him. If he said her skin felt like silk to him, he meant that, literally. How do you even know what to say back to something like that?

A simple "thanks," seemed kind of inadequate.

So instead she decided to be just as honest . . . but in a different way.

"I wish the others could see how sweet you really are," she whispered, "then they would be nicer to you."

That's when Daryl let out a huff, and grumbled back, "ain't no reason to wish for that, 'cuz most of them are just a pain in the ass anyhow."

Then he was quiet for a second before he added on with a heavy sigh.

"I did like Amy a lot though. She was a real nice kid."

"Yeah," Carol blinked and nodded, "yeah, she was a nice kid. Sometimes I feel so guilty that I'm still happy for that attack because it killed Ed, but," she bit her lip, "I think God was just fixing things the way they were supposed to be."

Then she lifted her head to catch Daryl's eyes.

"If I tell you something, will you promise you won't tell any of the others?"

Seeing Daryl's brow darken, she had a feeling that she might have insulted him with the question.

"Come on now," he grunted back, "you already know the answer to that question so I ain't even gonna say it out loud."

Feeling another wave of something rise up in her chest, Carol had to sniffle and close her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, she gave him a teary smile.

"Yeah, I do know, and I'm sorry if that sounded a little insulting, but this is just something I didn't think, well," her voice started to thicken, "I didn't think I'd ever tell anyone, because I was just so ashamed of how I handled it."

Seeing Daryl's expression immediately soften with worry as he rubbed her arm, while he whispered, "just tell me, darlin', it'll be all right," Carol took a breath and blinked the tears back.

Then she started to speak.

"Right before he got killed," she bit down on her cheek, "during that time while you were away, Ed did something," her voice cracked, "well, I should say he _tried_ to do something," she blinked and looked back up to Daryl, "to Sophia."

It was hard enough just getting this part out, but when she saw how Daryl's eyes had widened right before she felt his whole body stiffen up, at least she knew that he got what she was saying.

"Naw," he questioned with a horrified, slow shake of his head, "you ain't telling me he went after her, are ya?"

That time she answered a nod and a sniffle.

"Yeah," she whispered, "I caught him in the tent with his hand on her thigh, and I got her out of there, but after that he kept trying to get me to leave them alone," her voice broke, "and I didn't know what I was going to do because it was so hard trying to keep her with me twenty-four hours a day. So I just kept praying and praying that something would happen to him, and then," she sniffled and brought her hand up to scrub at her face, "the walkers came. And I think maybe God sent them to save my girl from daddy," her voice faded, "because I couldn't."

Then her eyes widened as she turned her head to catch Daryl's horrified gaze again.

"I just don't want the others to ever know what he did," she whispered frantically, "because they'll just think I'm an awful mother, and I know I wasn't the best but," she sniffed and nodded, "I did the best I could you know, but sometimes, well," she bit her lip, "sometimes it's so hard to get out after you get stuck, you know?"

That's when Daryl's eyes filled.

"Yeah," he whispered with a faint crackle of his voice, "I know, darlin'. I know."

Then he tipped his head down to kiss to her temple while continuing softly.

"And I'm just sorry I wasn't there for you to come to me when he did that, 'cuz I would've took care of it for you and then you wouldn't be having these thoughts stuck in your head now."

After that he was quiet for a second before he added on with a rub of her shoulder.

"Maybe I shouldn't of gone off like I did, because there might have been another way. But at the time it seemed like the right thing to do, 'cuz I just knew we were heading for trouble, and I didn't want you to get hurt." He sighed. "But it seemed like that happened anyway."

"It's okay," she murmured back, "I'd take this with you now, and him dead and gone twice over, over anything we might have been able to do back up at the quarry."

Everything was a tradeoff, and if Daryl had stayed and she had told him what Ed was doing, then he probably would've gone after him. Then Daryl might've killed Ed and they'd all be living with that now. Or even worse, maybe Daryl could've gotten hurt trying to get her and Sophia free. And if _that_ had happened, maybe he wouldn't have been able to fight off the walkers the way he had.

Maybe he would've been one of the ones who got bit.

So yeah . . . she pressed a light kiss to his chest . . . this was the better way. At least for them anyway. And when Daryl didn't disagree with her last comment . . . he'd just squeezed her hand . . . she figured they were likely on the same page there. Then after a few more minutes of them just laying there, now in the quiet, Carol felt herself start to really relax. Of course the endorphins from the sex had 'relaxed' her, but it was different now, simply being cuddled up with someone who cared for her. Not once after their honeymoon weekend, had she again done anything with Ed that could be defined by anyone outside a true sadist, as cuddling. This though, with the way Daryl had his body wrapped around hers, and how he was playing with her fingers, it actually felt very protective and loving. And though Carol knew that laying there in silence might have been his preferred way to kill the rest of the twenty minutes he thought it would take to recharge, she was now thinking back to their mornings by the fire.

No matter what else happened, those would always be happy memories.

"The only downside of being in here with everyone," she whispered after another moment, "is that we won't get to have private coffee time anymore."

"Yeah," Daryl nodded slowly against her shoulder, "yeah, I liked that time too." Then he grunted a bit, "you always did make the best pot of coffee. Lot better than the others."

Feeling a faint twinge of disappointment, even hurt maybe, at how he'd qualified his answer like it was really the beverage he'd enjoyed the most, Carol bit her lip. Not that she said anything, because of course she knew that he hadn't meant anything by that at all. She swallowed.

It was silly to feel hurt over nothing.

Her silence though, must have been a comment back to Daryl all by itself. Because then she felt him shifting them around until she was on her back, and he was straddling her thighs, with his soft penis resting on her stomach. He looked down at her.

Maybe he saw the tension on her face then, because his expression softened to one of regret.

"I'm sorry, darlin'," he shook his head, "I didn't mean for that to sound like the coffee meant more to me than the time with you. I just," his jaw twitched, "I have a way of dealing with stuff and it ain't nothin' to do with you or how you make me feel. It's just," he bit his lip, "how I get by. But," his brow darkened then as he took a breath, "I'll try and do better, 'cuz I don't want you ever thinking you deserve less, just because I'm lousy at showing you more."

The tears that had started to form in Carol's eyes when he'd begun to speak, started to spill over when he was done. Because she'd just realized that this was probably the first time in his life that Daryl had ever tried to change his whole way of being, just for someone else.

And he was doing it for her.

"You're doing just fine, hon," she whispered with a watery smile, "you've made me feel safer being here with you than anyone else ever has." Her eyes crinkled, "and you've gone out of your way to make me feel good." She reached up to brush her thumb along his lip, "so even if you are new at it, you're not so bad at this kind of stuff." She huffed a bit, "at least no worse than me."

The corner of his lip twitched a bit at that, but it was really the only response he had before he just leaned down and kissed her again. That one was deep and passionate, and when he finally broke away with a gasp, he nuzzled her ear, and whispered, "I think I've had enough rest."

Her mouth quivered as she felt him now rubbing against her nest.

"Your choice this time," she murmured, "whatever you want." Then her nose wrinkled, "except you know, what we already talked about."

"Yeah," his brow darkened a bit as he nodded his head, "I know, and I told you that won't ever come up again. So how about we just go pretty straight forward, but," he bit his lip, "would you mind getting on top for a little while?" He reached out to stroke his thumb along her jaw, "I'd like to see your face this time."

Feeling a faint warmth touch her cheeks at Daryl's request . . . literally the exact opposite of hers to him . . . Carol gave him a little smile.

"Okay, if that's what you want."

So once more they shifted around the mattress, this time though Daryl went on his back and she moved over to straddle his thighs. Then she licked her palm, and reached down to take that thick shaft in her hands. It was already poking up into her inner thigh, but she wanted to make sure that he was totally ready for her, so she started to lightly pump him in her hand. And she could see how his breaths were deepening, so what she was doing felt good. Also, just what she was holding in her hand, wasn't just hard anymore.

It was like a piece of steel.

So she brushed her thumb over his tip . . . which made him jump. And feeling a bit more emboldened then, and also a bit like maybe she should return all those favors he'd been doing for her, she ran the dull edge of her nail straight down the underside of that quivering length.

He jumped again.

"What the hell was THAT?!"

The question came as a gasp. And hearing him suck in another breath, she moved both hands up to cup his balls.

Then very gently, she began to caress them with both hands. And she could tell from his breathing, that her touch was again a good touch, but still that was when he reached for her.

"Appreciate all your good thoughts darlin'," he whispered while catching her fingers, "but I have more fun when you're having fun too."

Her eyes crinkled then.

"You sure? Because I don't want to be," she tipped her head, "selfish, you know? You've done so much special stuff for me, I can do some special things for you."

His lip quirked up.

"It's special enough just being with you, and it ain't selfish if this is how I prefer it. So come on now," he shot her a wink, "hop on."

Of course she couldn't help the little giggle that slipped out that, so she raised herself up on he knees. Then with Daryl's hands on her hips, they very slowly . . . and with a slow exhale on her part and an inhale on his . . . lowered her down.

It wasn't until she felt that tip she had just been stroking, pressing directly into her womb, that her eyes started to fill. And when Daryl's eyes widened as he whispered with obvious concern, "is something hurtin'?!" she gave him a sharp shake of the head, and a watery smile.

"No," she bit her lip, "no, it doesn't hurt. More happy tears, I promise." Then she sniffled a bit, and brought her hand up to wipe the corner of her eye, "I'm sorry if I made you nervous again."

Daryl shook his head.

"You don't gotta be sorry," he whispered back while reaching out to lightly brush his thumb along her cheek, "just wanted to make sure you were okay."

And he saw Carol's eyes crinkle a bit at that, right before she leaned down to give him a kiss. When she pulled away . . . that's when she started to move. All he could think then was, ' _God was she beautiful in that soft light_.' And with each stroke her breasts jiggled, and God was good there too. It was near hypnotizing. So much so, that he just watched them slowly bouncing up and down, with that same rhythm they were both working down below. Then he let his hands glide up from her hips, and along her sides, and the outer curve of her breasts, until they'd once more reached those perfect, pink, nipples. He caught each hardened little tip in between his thumb and pointer finger.

Then he pinched them.

And when he saw Carol's eyes fall shut, he gave them another tweak. That time she let out a faint moan.

"Is that good?" He murmured, and she gave a ragged nod, "yeah, but they're starting to get kind of sensitive, so not too rough. The way you're doing it now is perfect."

His eyes crinkled as he simultaneously brought his hips up to meet her in another thrust, while at the same time he gave those little nipples another gentle tweak. And he could see how she reacted to his touch each time, that he was really working her up. So he kept it going at an easy pace until he saw her suddenly gasp . . . that was right when she froze mid-stroke. And he could see from that rosy blush exploding out across her chest, that she was hitting the first real high note.

"DARYL!"

His name came out as a moan, as she scrambled to grab for his hand. So he quickly caught her fingers, right before he flipped them over.

"It's okay darlin'," he hummed with a nuzzle of her ear, while shifting his weight to grind his hips, "I'll get the rest."

And as she buried face against his chest, and her nails scraped at his back, Daryl kept pushing them both along. With her whimpering and panting beneath him, as her walls contracted around him, he was feeling that light coming along himself. But he still wasn't quite there, at least not until Carol came back to him some. That's when she shifted her position so those long legs of hers were wrapped up tight around his torso.

He could feel her heel pressing into his upper back.

Then she began to place these light kisses on his chest, while she squeezed his ass with both of her hands, and his dick with everything soft inside her. It was so different than the sex they'd had earlier, and that had been fucking AMAZING, but still he'd be hard pressed to say that this was anything less. It just felt more personal somehow.

Intimate.

That might've been the right word. And that wasn't the kind of sex he was used to having. So even though he knew how great it was gonna feel to come, he almost didn't want to get to the end this time. Like if he could just stay there with her for hours, just riding her like this, that would've been more than fine. So he tried to slow things down a little, to enjoy the pleasure as it built and stretched, but still, eventually his body reached the point like it was supposed to.

It came out of the clear blue though.

'Cuz suddenly he was coming so fast, and so HARD, that he seriously almost bucked himself off of her, and clean onto the floor! It felt like he was riding a bronco! He actually gasped out an almost panicked, "JEEEZUS CHRIST!" as he clutched Carol up to chest and his hips couldn't stop moving as he spilled into her over and over until she'd taken all he had.

For those last few seconds it felt like he made a fool of himself losing it like that . . . but she didn't make fun of him though. Not like any other woman he'd ever been with would have. No, Carol, she just wrapped him up SO tight in her arms, while she panted in his ear, "it's okay hon, it's okay. I got you. I got you."

It was the first time he actually felt tears come to his eyes when he was having sex. Of course he blinked them back quick, but he couldn't deny that it had happened. And when he began to coast down from the brink, he still didn't want to let her go, because he still didn't want it to be all over. So he gathered her up in his arms, and while they were still joined together, he buried his face into her neck, and cuddled her up on his chest.

That was another first time for him.

Because in the past, sex had always just been about his dick and finding it that good, soft place for it to go. And once the screwin' was done, that was the end of the things. Yeah, he'd been with a couple girls over the years he'd liked well enough to want to share a smoke with after, but that wasn't what this was with Carol. There had never been anyone before where he just wanted to stay locked up inside them all night.

And he was startin' to wonder if this was what it was like to be in love.

The thought had been swirling around his head off and on the whole time he'd been away from her. There had just been this awful ache in his chest. And his stomach had felt sick and of course all that was just pounded together after Merle was gone. The first time he'd started to feel more himself again in over a week, was tonight when he'd seen how Carol was looking at him over dinner. That's when he'd started to think maybe he hadn't screwed things up so bad that he couldn't get her back again.

And then his heart would stop hurting so much.

'Cuz if missing her like _that_ , and wanting to just hold onto her like _this_ , _wasn't_ what love was, then he was at a loss. Because all he wanted was to be around her, and to keep her safe. It was like that was his purpose now, to go forward with her. The world ended and he finally found a reason to be alive.

That was a real kick in the ass.

Feeling her silky soft body curled up in his arms though, and her warm breath on his throat, he couldn't imagine anything better coming beyond that moment. And those thoughts were ones he could've stuck with for a while longer if not for Carol suddenly pressing a kiss to his shoulder. And when that was followed by a heavy sigh, he knew she was about ready to get up.

It was time for her to go back to her own room.

Damn it.

Carol had to bite down a yawn when she lifted her head because all she wanted to do was stay snuggled up there in Daryl's arms until she felt asleep. Of course that wasn't an option. Not with Sophia all by herself down the hall.

Still, it was with real regret that she pushed herself back and gave Daryl a sad smile.

"I had a wonderful time," she whispered, "but I have to go now."

Then she leaned in to give him a thank you/goodnight/goodbye kiss . . . it got heated enough that she ended up rolled over onto her back again. And when Daryl finally broke away, it was with a gentle rub of her hip, and a faint, happy, smile.

"I had a real good time too."

The look on his face, how content he seemed, and how she knew that it was because of her, it was enough to make her heart thud just a little bit faster. Because she was falling fast here, and really if not for daughter, there was no reason in the world that would've gotten her out of that bed. So before her resolve wavered, because she was thinking ' _oh maybe she could stay just a little longer_ ' . . . she couldn't . . . she shot Daryl a wink, and started to shimmy off the side of the mattress.

At that point she expected that he'd just settle back on the pillow and drop off to sleep. Instead when she stood up to go over and get her t-shirt, she saw him rolling off the other side of the bed to pick up his pants from the floor.

"Where are you going?" She asked in confusion. And he shrugged, and gave his pants a shake to get the fabric untwisted.

"Just don't seem right not walking you back."

That was all he said, but somehow him wanting to bring her back to her room, seemed really romantic. Of course he didn't bother with a shirt, or even the button on his jeans . . . which was a little distracting, given how good he looked, especially with that musky smell coming off of him, and the messy sex hair . . . but he did help her slip back into her t-shirt. And he actually held her hand as he walked her back down the hall. Carol's eyes crinkled.

That was pretty romantic too.

By that point it was well after one am, and the only sounds she could hear were those of the ventilation system. And when they stopped in front of her door, Daryl looked both ways down the corridor before he tipped his head down and gave her a quick peck on the lips.

As he broke away, it was with a mumbled, "so you wanna do this again tomorrow night?"

Her eyes crinkled.

"Absolutely. We'll do it every night if you want, because I have very much missed having good sex. It's been about fifteen years," she smiled, "and I want to make up for all that time. And to that end," her brow quirked up, "if you can maybe scrounge us up some kind of birth control besides me just making the sign of the cross before we get going, then we might be able to fit in a quickie during the daytime hours too."

Even though they'd already accepted a potential baby as an outcome of them having the physical relationship they both wanted, it would be foolish to deny that the more times they had sex, the higher the odds were of that potential baby coming down the pike! So if they were going to do it two of three times a day . . . and she wanted to do it as much as they could without her getting sore . . . if they could just find something to keep those odds just a _hair_ more on their side, that's all she was hoping for.

"All right then," Daryl's lip quirked up at Carol's request, "I'll figure out something." Then he gave a quick look around, before his eyes snapped back to hers.

"You know I could ask the doc. I mean," he shrugged, "how many drugs do they have here? It seems like they'd keep some kind of birth control pills in stock, don't you think?"

It made sense to him, because if they were doing their experiments and shit and needed to find out how something mixed with something else, so why wouldn't they want to keep a sampling of all the basic stuff handy. And he could see Carol nodding her agreement with his thinking there.

"Yeah," she bit her lip, "actually I would think they'd keep samples of a lot of things. But if they don't have any," she gave a tug on the shirt she was wearing, "I got this from the dresser in my room." Then her eyes darted over to his as she finished with a knowing look, "some of the other drawers, might have other things in them though, you know?"

"Uh huh," he nodded, "I hear ya."

Not like he wanted to start wearing a rubber with her, but if it meant he got to have sex in the middle of the day, fuck yeah, he could put on a raincoat from time to time!

Carol was just about to step inside her room then when she turned back around again. She could see Daryl now standing a few feet away, just watching her.

"Hey," she started softly, "you wouldn't want to um . . ."

Then she trailed off with a faint shake of her head, and a, "no, never mind." But she'd already caught his attention, so he immediately walked over to where she was standing. That's when she couldn't help but notice how his pants had slid further down, so they were riding really low on his hips. Strangely, she found herself reaching out to brush her thumb back and forth over that small patch of bare skin on his left side.

It wasn't hard to pick up on how Daryl's breath caught when she did that. Then his fingers covered over hers as he whispered back.

"What wouldn't I want to do?"

Her hand fell away then as she gave him a faint, awkward, smile.

"No, I was just thinking that if you wanted to move in here with us, that you could do that. But," she huffed with a bit of embarrassment, "I'm sure you don't want to do that."

Daryl's jaw twisted once before he looked over Carol's left shoulder to the small body snuggled up on the couch across the room, on the other side of the open door. After a moment of staring at that tiny lump, he whispered, "but won't Sophia think that's weird when she wakes up tomorrow and I'm three feet away?"

It was a valid question, but not one Carol was too worried about. Which was why she just gave Daryl a half shrug.

"Maybe a little," she answered in the same quiet tone, "but since the walker attack, she's become used to everyone being jammed in together even more so than before. So if she asks, I'll just tell her that you stayed with us for protection. And really," she bit her lip, "that wouldn't be a lie. I mean," she looked over his shoulder and down the long, shadowy corridor, "I just want you here because I want you here, but it is kind of creepy around this place." Her eyes snapped back to his. "If you don't want to though, I . . ."

But Daryl cut her off.

"No, no," he reached out to squeeze her fingers again, "I do want to." He threw his thumb over his shoulder, "I just gotta get my stuff."

Her eyes crinkled.

"'K."

So she stood by the door for a second, watching as he turned and walked away. But then she realized that he might be a couple minutes so she turned and stepped back inside the room that she'd left probably, at that point, close to two hours earlier.

The first thing she did was tiptoe over to make sure that Sophia was still sound asleep . . . yes . . . and then the second thing she did was check to see if the note she'd left for her daughter had been disturbed.

That time the answer was no.

And really, as she crumpled it up, she was grateful for that. Because at the moment she was feeling nothing but bliss for that time with Daryl, but if she'd had reason to think that Sophia had been up looking for her while she was gone, then she would've started to feel guilty for taking time this for herself. And she already felt guilty enough about all those times that she'd failed her daughter in the past.

She didn't want to add this wonderful night onto that horrible list.

And with it really having been less than a minute since Daryl had left, she decide to go into the bathroom to clean up a little. Her lips started to twitch as she rubbed her hand down her thigh.

 _She was kind of sticky._

/*/*/*/*/*/

It took Daryl a couple of minutes to get back to Carol's room, 'cuz when he'd gone into his own, he realized that if they were gonna just use this room for sex, there was no point in leaving anything else behind. Which was why he'd had to do a good walk around to make sure he hadn't dropped nothing, but then after that, he'd needed to grab up the few things that had actually come with the room, that he'd wanted to keep with him. Like the new toothbrush and the toothpaste and the bar of soap he'd found on the bathroom counter. Daily showers were still a thing of the past even if they could stay in this place, but now that he had a full time woman it'd be good if he could at least clean up enough so he didn't drive Carol off in the first month.

So once he'd jammed those three things inside his bag, down beside his last half box of ammo, he'd scooped up his bow and bolts, snatched his boots up with his other hand, and had headed out.

When he got back over to Carol's he'd found that she'd left the door propped a bit, and once he stepped inside, he walked over and placed everything he'd brought with him, down on the floor by the dresser. That's when Carol, who had been locking the door behind him, pointed over to the bed where he could he could see a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants had been laid out.

"They're from the dresser," she whispered as he went over to check out the clothes, "and they should be big enough, but most important," her eyes crinkled, "they're clean." She walked over then to pat his bare chest.

"I'll wash all of our stuff tomorrow."

"Hmm, k," he murmured back while looking down and giving the pants a shake to see how long they were.

Good enough.

So after he threw a quick glance across the room to make sure Sophia was still sound asleep . . . yes . . . Daryl yanked off his worn out dickies, the ones he'd been sweating his ass off in for the last four days straight, turned around, and while completely bare assed, quickly hopped into the clean grey sweatpants with ' _U.S. Army'_ printed in big black letters down the side of one leg. Then he pulled on the matching t-shirt, which he would've preferred not to wear . . . he liked the feeling of Carol's skin right on his skin . . . but he had to figure Carol had put the shirt out more for Sophia's sake rather than his.

Basically so she wouldn't wake up and find him half naked and cuddled up in bed with her mama.

Because yeah, that might cause a little upset and of course he wasn't looking to traumatize that child. Especially given all the damage her daddy had already done to her. After what Carol had told him earlier, he was afraid they might have some work to do there just to keep her little head on straight. And that would be on top of whatever they were gonna need to do just to get her growing up "normal" living in a world where dead people walked around.

The whole God damn situation was fucked.

Still, as he fixed the elastic cuff on his sweatpants where it had got twisted around his leg, he knew he was luckier than most. Because he might've lost his brother, but he'd gained himself a woman and a little girl. And he wasn't going to take them for granted, because if he did, God might take them away. Hell, God might take them away anyway.

But he was gonna do his damndest to keep that day from coming for as long as he could.

In the meantime, once he was all changed, and had moved the small desk lamp sitting on the little table beside Carol's sofa bed, over to the floor in the far corner . . . he didn't like the idea of sleeping in the pitch in this strange place, but he didn't want the light directly in his eyes neither . . . he did a final check of the lock on the door, and then put a chair under the handle for good measure. And he did that, because as he told Carol, "in case the shit hits the fan like it always does, we need to be prepared." After that he put his knife on the now empty bedside table, before he finally climbed onto the mattress where Carol was already curled up on her side, waitin' for him.

She'd left the same t-shirt on that she'd worn over to his room, but while he'd been putting on his clean clothes, she'd also pulled the baggy white pajama pants back on, that she'd been wearin' earlier in the night. Again, Daryl was figuring that was for Sophia's sake, so they'd both be dressed proper come morning. Still, knowing her body as he did now, when he looked at her, he couldn't help but picture just exactly what was underneath that loose flannel.

So while he was shifting around, he shot Carol a wink even while he was reaching over to squeeze one of those firm thighs that'd been wrapped around him barely fifteen minutes earlier. And when he did that, she gave him back a bashful smile as a smudge of pink touched her cheeks. Seeing that was look on her face though, was something that really made his heart ache in a new way. Just 'cuz of all that stuff they did, and how she could still somehow be shy with him laying his hands on her again now.

A man could fall off a cliff for a woman like that.

That was how he found himself leaning over to give her one last goodnight kiss. It went on for a little bit, before he pulled away with a faint smile. One that Carol immediately returned, though he could see how her eyes were shining. They were happy tears though.

He was sure of that.

So he pulled up their blankets, and settled back on the pillow with one arm bent back and tucked behind his head as he stared up at the ceiling that looked just like his.

It only took a second before Carol shifted over to rest her head on his shoulder, while she let her hand settle in on his belly. And he could feel in the tension coming off her, how she was kind of hesitant draping over him that way. That was even they'd just been touching pretty much every part they had, again, not even fifteen minutes earlier. Most likely though, he figured that she was expecting he might be looking for some space now that they were settling in for the night. And it was true, most of the men Daryl knew from life before hadn't wanted nothin' to do with women being in their bed, unless those women were naked. That might've even been how he'd seen things back then too. Back then he didn't have Carol though.

And everything was different with her.

So to make sure she understood that, in how he wanted her as close as could be, no matter if she was buck naked or wearing a bear suit and a parka, he brought his free hand over to catch her fingers. And after he'd brought them up to his lips to give them a kiss, he laced them together with his, and let their joined hands drop back down to his belly again. He felt Carol immediately cuddle in a little closer.

The tension was gone from her muscles too.

And as they lay there in the shadowy room, listening to the soft breaths coming from the little body some feet away, Daryl let out a sigh.

"Thank you for asking me to come in here," he murmured, "'cuz between Merle and me being stuck together out on the road, then being with the group, it's been a long time since I've spent the night in a room all by myself." His voice faded off, "I hadn't been lookin' forward to it."

Not like he didn't generally prefer the quiet, but liking the quiet didn't mean you always wanted to be alone. And since the bottom had dropped out, and they'd all joined up at the quarry, he'd kind of got used to having folks around. Even if probably half of them people had drove him nuts most the time, some of the other ones, like Amy and Carl, and of course most important Carol and her girl, they'd quickly started to grow on him. That's when he'd come to see it wasn't always such a bad thing having folks around.

This woman alone was all the proof of that he needed.

Carol's expression softened at Daryl's words.

"Yeah," she whispered back with a faint nod, "I know what you mean about being alone. It's like the less people there are left out there, the harder it is to be all by yourself." Then she let out a heavy breath as her fingers dug into his palm.

"But I'm so glad you're here with me."

The words came out somewhat impulsively, and with a faint crackle. And she really wasn't expecting Daryl to know what to say back to her . . . he wasn't a, " _I'm glad I'm here too_ ," kind of guy . . . so she was fully prepared for him to say nothing at all. And that would have been just fine with her, because sometimes you say things because you need to say them, not because not because you need to hear something back. Which was why she was surprised when Daryl tipped his head down, then he pressed his lips to her ear.

"We're gonna be okay, darlin', and even if we ain't, we'll still figure it out anyway."

That was what he whispered to her, and that was what brought fresh tears to her eyes, because he was probably the only person left in the world who could tell her that they were going to find a way to get through this, and she actually believed him. Still, she tried to blink the tears away quickly because she didn't want to cry again right before bed.

It would just make her eyes puffy in the morning.

So she sniffled and blinked, once, and twice, before she pushed herself up to give Daryl one last kiss. When she broke away, his eyes crinkled slightly as he brought his free hand up to brush his thumb along her cheek.

"It's pretty good having folks, ain't it?" He murmured.

"Yeah," she dropped her head back down to his chest as she let out a happy sigh, "yeah, it really is."

/*/*/*/*

Carol's eyes popped open to find her face buried against Daryl's neck, her leg wrapped around his thigh, and his arm curled around her shoulders. After she'd blinked a couple times, she realized that though he wasn't snoring, she could hear the faint whispery breaths he was making on each steady exhale.

The sound helped a little with her racing heart.

Because at the moment it was galloping like something had just startled her, but she couldn't figure out what that something could have been. The thing was though, as she blinked again and lifted her head, it didn't feel like she hadn't really been sleeping all that long either. Also, the fact that Daryl was _still_ sleeping . . . and he was the lightest sleeper/earliest riser of the group . . . made her think the sound she'd heard couldn't have been that loud. Still, Carol was just about to wake her bedmate anyway, because any sound loud enough to wake her from a sound sleep, was probably a sound that needed to be investigated . . . when she suddenly realized what it was she'd just heard.

The toilet flushing.

Apparently it had been so long since she'd heard one, let alone one in the middle of the night, her brain no longer processed that as normal background noise. But now that she was hearing the faint rush of water running out of the pipes . . . her daughter washing her hands in the sink . . . she was positive that the toilet had been the sound she'd heard a moment earlier. And when Carol shifted a little she saw that the cut of the light from under the bathroom door . . . it snapped off literally the second she looked at it.

The door started to open.

As she heard the soft slap of little feet on the hard floor, Carol slowly levered herself up far enough to catch her daughter's eyes in the faint glow from the lamp Daryl had put over in the corner of the room.

"You okay, baby?" She whispered.

Rather than answering her immediately, Sophia stopped short a few feet from the bathroom door.

Now she was staring over at her mother, and the man on the couch. Apparently when she'd woken up, she hadn't noticed that there was a third person in the room. Understandable, given how she was probably half asleep when she stumbled off to use the toilet. Now though, she just seemed very much confused.

And maybe . . . from the way her eyebrows had just narrowed . . . a little nervous.

So in an effort to alleviate whatever odd fears might have started rolling through her daughter's little brain, Carol slowly pulled her hand out from under the blanket, and where it was resting on Daryl's stomach, to hook two fingers together and, wave her daughter closer.

"Come here, sweetie," she murmured with a sleepy smile. And when her daughter bit her lip, right before she began to slowly shuffle forward again, Carol's smile widened. Because now her daughter was staring down at Daryl with an almost comical fascination.

Something similar to the look she'd probably have if she'd just found a unicorn in the room.

But knowing that she needed to plow right into this before his presence became a source of unease, rather than fascination, Carol quietly answered the unasked question.

"Daryl's sleeping in here with us to make sure we stay safe."

Sophia blinked and looked up.

"But why's he's in your bed, Mommy?" She asked with obvious confusion.

Feeling her cheeks start to redden at the question, Carol's fingertips pressed into Daryl's bicep. Because obviously by Sophia's innocent, just turned ten years old, perspective, this man's presence in her mother's bed would make no sense to her. Which was why Carol was now SERIOUSLY regretting not giving her daughter a more thorough discussion of the birds and the bees! Though Sophia did know that babies came from the "belly," Carol had never really explained about men and women, and "physical companionship." It wasn't anything really that had ever come up before with her daughter being so young . . . again, just ten in March . . . and with their home life, there had been no expressions of male/female _affection_ around their house.

So now Carol was feeling kind of stuck.

Finally though she let out a slow breath . . . it was nearly synced with the same one Daryl exhaled . . . and started speaking again.

"Well um, Daryl's in my bed because uhh . . ."

"Your mama had a bad dream."

Hearing Daryl's faint, rumbly voice cut over hers, right before her eyes snap down to see those long lashes of his slowly flutter open, Carol realized that he'd been awake for at least a few seconds. Long enough for him to realize she was twisting in the wind. His answer though, for a naïve ten year old, it was a good one.

So she immediately latched onto it with a firm nod.

"Right," she confirmed for Sophia while squeezing Daryl's hand in gratitude under the blanket, "I had a bad dream, so Daryl laid down here with me to make me feel better," her eyes crinkled slightly, "you know, just like I do when you have a bad dream."

As snap excuses on the go went, it wasn't a terrible one. It would at least do until she could have a proper conversation with her daughter tomorrow about how Daryl would be staying with them regularly now. And at the same it would probably be best if she finished up that birds and bees discussion too. Because right now Sophia was just naïve about adults cuddling together. But with her and Daryl sharing space and just generally being affectionate, that innocence was going to pass quickly. And Carol didn't want to lie to her girl. If anything, she was actually kind of thrilled for her daughter to FINALLY see how a man was actually supposed to treat a woman.

With respect and a gentle touch.

For now though, watching Sophia look slowly back and forth between the two of them, before she finally shook her head . . . though the headshake seemed to be really more to herself than to the adults . . . it looked like the snap excuse on the go, was going to work just fine for a middle of the night band aid.

A point confirmed when her daughter suddenly turned around and shuffled across the room, back over to her own couch.

It wasn't until she'd pulled up her blanket and rolled over towards the wall to cuddle in again with her new rag doll, that Carol let out a relieved sigh. Then she dropped her head back down to Daryl's shoulder.

"I'll explain everything to her tomorrow," she whispered.

"Hmph," he huffed, "yeah, if you please. 'Cuz that was quite the hairy eyeball I was getting. She looked about ready to march me off to the woodshed."

And Carol rolled over to smother a giggle against Daryl's throat.

"I thought you were the big, strong man who was going to protect us out in the world," she snorted. And he tipped his head down.

"Funny lady," he grunted with a kiss to her temple. "How about I'll take care of the walkers, and you take care of the conversations about man and lady parts?" Carol's eyes crinkled as she cuddled back into his side again. She pressed a kiss to his chest.

"Deal."

* * *

 _A/N 2: Aaaaaaah! I honestly felt horrible leaving them here so happy at the end, rolling along into canon with what's going to happen next :( But just like my note from last chapter, I really think Daryl's obsession with finding Sophia takes on a new edge when you think about him having made a promise to Carol that he would keep her daughter safe. I guess if I come back to them here in this world again, it would be probably be to touch on that time in their lives. The problem is that it's difficult to save everyone, everywhere. This far into canon, I'd have to change an element of the existing storyline, something has to go differently, to allow something ELSE to go differently. So like over in Cedar Forest, Daryl's 'influence' over both Carol and Sophia is already pushing everything in canon down a different path. Here, we have barely a day or two from the CDC exploding, before they ran into the herd on the highway. That doesn't leave much time to pull enough threads to make things go another way for Sophia :(_

 _Also, the idea that this was part of them getting together was canon, and then everything else we saw on-screen happened just as it happened, I think makes Sophia's death, and Daryl's canon guilt in not being able to save her for Carol, all the more devastating. Him bringing her the Cherokee rose is also so much sadder, and sweeter, if you think of them as a couple already, but then later he pushed her away over his guilt for not being able to bring Sophia back. It actually makes it work even more logically that Daryl (who until then would not have struck anyone as a flowers kind of guy) WOULD have felt that emotionally grounding with Carol, to bring her that rose. That was a romantic gesture. Even the scene where she kisses his cheek at the farmhouse works with this CDC stuff in the background. I know a lot of people see the way he startles as it being the first time he'd felt a soft touch, but what if it was more a startle because he was expecting her to hit him because she BLAMED him! And he couldn't process how she wasn't blaming him, like he was clearly blaming himself. He felt so guilty for letting her down, and there she was just thankful that he was okay, and grateful that he had tried so hard to save their girl. It would also explain why Carol just leans right in there and kisses him when at that point in time, NOBODY else would have dared to invade his space that way! She did though :) And you would still get the same initial "DOES NOT COMPUTE" reaction in Daryl's brain to her being so understanding about what he saw as his COMPLETE failure of this woman he's falling in love with, and who he felt, was depending on him to fix this horrible thing for her. That level of real compassion and forgiveness would definitely have been emotions that he was not familiar with at that point in his emotional growth. And then you can build their entire relationship through the seasons after that with them being together all the way through going into season four when they were torn apart by Rick. Then from there Carol's devastation over what happened with the girls has been what has KEPT them apart. Just like in canon, she couldn't lose anyone else. She couldn't lose him. Personally, I think it works :)_

 _Aside from the deeper issues, I think you can see the difference in the sex they had at the beginning was so primal that it was freeing for Carol, and then the second time they were together, it was so intimate, that it was what changed Daryl. Because what each of them asked for physically, was what they needed emotionally, even if they didn't realize it at the time. I just wanted to have a fresh way for Carol to shake free of her bonds. And then also for Daryl in particular, someone who has NO experience with real love, to realize that's what this is that he feels. So he puts it together like a puzzle :)_

 _So again, I hate to leave them, because I really like this version of them, but they have an ending here and we need to get to some endings elsewhere so we'll just let them drift off into the ether._

 _Thanks everyone! And as always, love to know what you guys think!_


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